


Grey: Volume I

by allofuswithwings



Series: Grey [1]
Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Character Study, Complicated Relationships, Discussion of spouses, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Excessive Drinking, Friends to Lovers, Homophobic Language, Humor, M/M, Occasional fat-phobic language, Past Relationship(s), Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Self-Reflection, Slow Burn, The Resistance Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 99,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29118069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofuswithwings/pseuds/allofuswithwings
Summary: Whether I see you nowwith glistening raven hairor find you blonde and fair,I find somehowin your sweet facethat same grace.I daresayThe very god of loveWill stroke your hairWhen it is grey.– Greek, anonymous**Isolation and escape from the bustle of the modern world can make you see your life from a different perspective, as well as the people that are in it. Dom takes a holiday on a remote tropical island, and is surprised to find Matt there, also suffering from similar problems as himself. Together they examine the issues in their own and each other’s lives, and discover that perhaps they didn’t know themselves quite as well as they’d thought. A strange, complex atmosphere begins to develop between the two of them, and they wonder why being in this place has such a profound effect on them. But perhaps it is not the island that is the cause, but something much more important.
Relationships: Matt Bellamy/Dom Howard
Series: Grey [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136627
Comments: 31
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from Livejournal/Dreamwidth. Volume I written 2009-2012. Volume II written 2012-2016, unfinished. Restarted end 2020, now ongoing.

Even as Dom stepped out onto the cool, wooden deck of his villa and surveyed the beautiful, quiet beach on this sunny afternoon, he knew this wasn’t going to be a normal holiday. The tension that sat tight in his muscles and churned in his stomach dampened the enchantment and serenity of this place. Which was a shame, because this place was truly beautiful. A remote, sparsely populated and exclusive island, of flawless stretches of soft, white sand and crystal clear ocean, though with few of the amenities and luxuries available he was used to. But that was part of the charm; it was meant to be an escape from the complexities and indulgences of the western world.  
  
It was situated somewhere in the Pacific Ocean near the Virgin Islands, though he couldn’t remember where exactly; he’d dozed off on the small charter plane from the Caribbean, after about ten minutes of watching the GPS flight path on the plane’s TV screen. Not that it really mattered at all, because the location wasn’t what had attracted him to this place; it was the seclusion, the unspoilt and unpopulated nature of the island itself. Of course, that was why many celebrities stayed here, to get away from it all and just have time to be alone and unbothered.  
  
And that had been the plan for him and Jess. To spend some time together without everything else getting in the way. And to everyone on the outside, it seemed so sweet and romantic, but the truth was unfortunately much harsher than that. It was more of an attempt for himself and Jess to sort out their problems and reboot their relationship.  
  
Things had gone downhill recently, with all the whirlwind touring and press and everything else. While Matt and Chris were able to bring their usual entourage, including Chris’s thousands of kids running amok, Dom couldn’t get Jess to come along most of the time. She’d really hit her stride in her career; taking on much more responsibility and needing to do travelling of her own for business. But it meant she was needed more and more back in England, and couldn’t just abscond with Dom on tour all the time like she’d done in the past. And though he’d made the effort to go back home and see her as often as possible, a lot of the time she was much too busy with work, or completely worn out from it, that quality time together seemed to elude them.  
  
It wasn’t that she was always stressed out or angry, it just seemed like every time Dom came back, he knew less and less about her. They’d try to talk, about her work, his work, anything at all, but Dom could never recall the people she talked about, and she often didn’t remember where exactly he was touring or what the band was working on. There were no fights, no angry words over forgotten occasions, or broken promises for plans they’d made. They were just slipping away from one another. Dom realised Jess was living her life and pursuing her dreams, but all without him in it.  
  
She’d almost said as much the last time they’d spoken when they planned the holiday. She needed to have someone who could be home more often, to share her life with and settle down, making plans for the future. But she’d said she couldn’t ask that of him, because he was doing what he loved, and she wouldn’t stop him. Dom knew the facts were there though; she needed something he couldn’t give her. Not now, at least. And this holiday was really only a last-ditch effort to save what might be left of their relationship, if there even was anything to save.  
  
So, despite the beauty and the peacefulness of this place Dom had whisked himself away to, it seemed dulled and distant due to the heavy cloud of anxiety hanging over him. And it wasn’t really going to get better any time soon, because he had to wait around, stewing in his own worries, as Jess didn’t arrive for another couple of days. She’d rung him a few days earlier, telling him she’d been delayed at work and couldn’t make it straight away but would get there as soon as possible. So now he was stuck on his own on this gorgeous, romantic island, with nothing to do but drive himself insane with his own thoughts.  
  
And the minimalist, earthy lifestyle promoted here didn’t exactly help with providing distraction from his troubles. There were only two resorts on the island, and though they were both exceptionally modern and immaculate, they placed heavy emphasis on relaxation and tranquillity; meaning no televisions, stereos or other hi-tech electronic devices of any kind. The most complicated pieces of equipment were the fridge and the outdoor spa, which were modest in size and only had low, gentle settings respectively.  
  
Dom’s villa, in the resort on the west side of the island, had huge living areas, simple wooden and cloth furnishings, and of course, the enormous wooden deck that led straight out onto the immaculate beach adjacent. If he’d perhaps been staying somewhere closer to Asia, he would’ve dubbed it very Zen in design; everything about it radiated peace, harmony and effortlessness of existence. All in all, exactly what one wanted from a secluded getaway destination; but precisely the wrong location for someone in his state of mind.  
  
Dom sighed, staring out at the stunning, deserted beach, wondering how he’d gotten himself into this situation. He would’ve thought that finally being a successful rock star would make things easier, not harder. He turned around listlessly and headed back inside, scooping up the welcome brochure and flicking through the pages to see what was on offer. Well, at least it seemed there were a few things to occupy his time and hopefully keep his mind off his troubles briefly, with all sorts of services and activities available, not to mention the several bars located around the place. Dom scanned the pages a few more times, deciding what to try first, and then picked up the room phone to put in his preferences.  
  
* * *  
  
After an afternoon of massages, spas and various other pamperings, Dom found himself wandering down away from the main resort itself to other buildings in the complex. It had been relaxing for a while, but as he left, he sensed the stress and tension beginning to seep its way back into his mind and body. He needed more distraction, and saw that there was a strip of cafes, bars, restaurants and small shops just down the street, evidently for resort patron use. As he strolled past the various bright coloured, hand-painted signs, he contemplated swinging into one of the bars for an early evening drink or two, hopefully to numb his senses. But just as he was about to enter, another sign caught his eye, and he felt his anxiety dissipate a little. It was painted in thick, black lettering above the doorway to a large, grey building, and said simply ‘Music Studio’.  
  
With a spring in his step and a smile beginning to grace his lips again, Dom made his way across the unsealed road toward it. As he stepped through the door, he heard faint thrums of rhythm and undecipherable melodies, making his heart skip a beat. He turned to the polite, expectant woman behind the counter and flashed a wide grin.  
  
* * *  
  
It turned out this island was not only a getaway for movie stars, but also musicians, who were drawn to the idea of being inspired to compose and record in remote and isolated locations. As a guest at the resort, Dom was permitted to use whatever facilities he wished, and his time would be charged to his room accordingly. He’d informed them that there was only one instrument he needed to use; and that he just wanted to rehearse and mess around and had no intention of recording anything. He’d spent the rest of the day settling back into the steady, familiar rhythms of the drums, his worries draining away with every passing minute and tempo he beat out. Finally, he felt he could relax.  
  
When he’d started to grow tired, and a little hungry, he set the sticks down and reluctantly made his way out of the room and down the halls back to the front counter. As he approached from the hallway, he could hear the sounds of arguing in the front; the polite but frustrated tones of the woman behind the counter and another, irritated and whiny male voice. To his surprise, the man had a British accent, and as he got closer, he realised he already _knew_ that voice. But it couldn’t be…  
  
“Matt…?!”  
  
Matt, a frown still on his features, whirled around as Dom emerged from the corridor, momentarily forgetting his argument with the poor receptionist. His expression changed to one of shock, and then a wide smile spread across his face.  
  
“Shit, Dom! What are you doing here?” he asked, perplexed.  
  
Dom laughed, stepping across the room toward him and then wrapping him in a brief hug.  
  
“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, his voice warm.  
  
This was an unexpected and pleasant surprise, adding a welcome perk to what Dom had assumed would be a difficult and stressful trip. He wasn’t really here to spend time with his friends, and God knew he already spent most of his year in Matt’s company anyway, but at least it would give him something to do while he was waiting for Jess to arrive.  
  
Matt flashed him a toothy grin, evidently also pleased at the familiar company, and shrugged dismissively.  
  
“Me and Gaia found this island a while ago, and just head over here when we need a break,” he explained. “Not many people know about it, or are allowed to come here so it’s good for privacy and seclusion.”  
  
Dom nodded in understanding, but sagged slightly in disappointment as he realised he was probably going to be intruding on a romantic getaway if he wanted to hang out with Matt. Attempting a casual air, he lifted a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it as he probed for information.  
  
“Oh, so how come you’re here at the studio if you’re on holiday with Gaia?” Dom asked.  
  
He noticed Matt’s chirpy expression falter slightly, his eyes turning dark and downwards for a split second, before returning to his usual relaxed but fidgeting attitude. One hand fiddled at the pocket of his jeans, which Dom noticed were of a much looser fit than he was used to seeing on Matt. Away from prying eyes, he supposed it didn’t really matter so much what they wore; he wasn’t on show here like back home and in so many other places.  
  
“Oh, um, Gaia’s not here…I needed to get away, to clear my head, and she was busy with work and study,” Matt replied. “She said she might come by in a week or so if she gets a chance. So I thought I’d head here and see if I could bang out some new stuff.”  
  
His expression returned to one of irritation again and he turned his gaze back to the woman behind the counter again. Flicking his head in her direction in indication, he pouted in frustration.  
  
“But they won’t bloody let me use their facilities because I’m staying at the other resort,” Matt said sulkily. “No matter how much money I throw at them, they say I’m not allowed because it’s owned by someone else, and is for use by their guests only.”  
  
Dom grinned at the way Matt folded his arms across his chest and huffed, essentially throwing an adult version of a tantrum because he couldn’t get his own way. And these days, that didn’t happen very often; everyone usually bending over backwards to please the god Matthew Bellamy from Muse. But not this time, much to the amusement of Dom.  
  
“Well, I’m staying at this resort and they let me use it…” he said slowly, teasingly. “I suppose I could ask if they’d let you use it on my behalf…”  
  
Matt’s face lit up and he grabbed at the material of Dom’s shirt sleeve with one hand, expression pleading. His wide blue eyes stared straight at Dom, and bottom lip protruding just the slightest bit. Dom had seen Matt use this technique on a countless number of people before, usually women, to sweet talk them into giving him what he wanted. Why Matt thought he needed to use it on him, he had no idea; Dom had always been a sucker for giving in to Matt for his whole life, without the use of the puppy-dog look, and Matt should’ve known that by now.  
  
Dom smiled wryly and turned to the receptionist, flashing his sweetest smile and resting his elbows down on the counter to lean over to her.  
  
“Would it be alright if my friend here used the studio under my account?” he asked, turning up the charm as high as it would go. “I’ll pay for it all, and any problems you just let me know. I promise he won’t be any trouble, we just want to have a bit of a jam on this lovely island.”  
  
Dom grinned as he saw the woman’s cheeks flush a little at his flirtatious attitude, and she tried to hide a smile.  
  
“I suppose we could work something out, sir. Perhaps sign him in as a guest on your account,” she replied. “But he would only be able to use it when you are here also; not on his own.”  
  
Matt nodded excitedly.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, as long as I can use it,” he muttered. “I don’t care if I have to drag you along all the time.”  
  
Dom turned his head, quirking an eyebrow at Matt and smiling wryly at the frontman’s assumptions.  
  
“And what if I don’t feel like being dragged along, hey?” he grinned. “I reckon you only get to use it when I say so.”  
  
It was Matt’s turn to raise an eyebrow, a little surprised at the lip he was getting from Dom on such a trivial matter. He smiled and shoved Dom with his shoulder.  
  
“Shut it, Howard,” he said with a mischievous grin. “You know it’s always my way, not yours.”  
  
Dom laughed, shaking his head, and turned to poke Matt in the stomach, who yelped in response. Matt looked genuinely startled at the gesture, which Dom thought was unusual. He watched Matt ponder his options for a moment, the thoughts ticking over in his head, before he simply smiled and rested a hand on Dom’s shoulder. He had half-expected Matt to start a tickling fight or grab him in a head-lock in retaliation to his cheek, but then remembered that they hadn’t really done that sort of thing for a while. Perhaps they were getting older, and that sort of behaviour was no longer appropriate.  
  
“Well, how about we grab something to eat and we can negotiate studio visits that are suitable for _both_ of us,” Dom suggested.  
  
Matt nodded, and Dom turned to thank the woman behind the counter before they headed out the door. As they walked toward the café strip, Matt was abnormally quiet: eyes on the ground and watching his shoes as they stepped over the sandy, gravelly road. Dom didn’t ask him the reason, still sensing something was amiss, but instead looked ahead to decide which café or restaurant looked the most appetising.  
  
“So, where’s Jess? Has she already eaten?” Matt asked suddenly.  
  
This caught Dom off guard, and he was silent for a moment, trying to hide his uneasy demeanour before replying. He could feel Matt’s eyes on him as he spoke.  
  
“Ah, no, she’s not here either. Same sort of thing as with Gaia,” Dom stumbled. “Really busy with work, but she should be able to get away in a couple of days.”  
  
He swallowed, shoving his hands in his pockets. He glanced over at Matt to see him still watching, his penetrating gaze making Dom uncomfortable and he looked away quickly. He pretended to be contemplating their food options, and pointed to a small, quaint café with Italian-style food.  
  
“Wanna try this place?” he asked casually, knowing Matt would always go for Italian food.  
  
Matt nodded, finally taking his eyes off Dom and surveying the establishment with hungry eyes.  
  
“Mmm, yeah, looks good, I think,” he agreed.  
  
Relieved that he’d distracted Matt from his scrutiny of his reactions, Dom relaxed his shoulders a little and they stepped inside the door to find a table.  
  
* * *  
  
  
After a good meal and some comfortable catch-up chatting, the two of them headed to Dom’s villa for a drink. They could have gone to one of the many bars there, but Matt said he wasn’t in the mood for loud music or irritating resort guests, and just wanted some time to chill out in each other’s company. Dom didn’t point out that the bars were empty most of the time, or that the music was always quiet and soothing in tone, and simply enjoyed the fact that Matt wanted to hang out with him.  
  
He gave Matt a brief tour of the place, who noted it was quite similar to his own, before grabbing them both a beer from the fridge and stepping out onto the deck into the warm night air. Dom took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh, clean scents of the island, closing his eyes for a moment to just enjoy it. He then flicked a glance to see Matt watching him again, and was glad of the darkness the night provided so Matt could not see the slight embarrassed flush on his cheeks.  
  
He turned to take a seat on one of the chairs, Matt joining him a moment later, and they both relaxed back, staring out at the dark ocean. The only sound was the soft, soothing wash of gentle waves on the shore, and Dom was astounded at the silence of the place. It was just _so quiet_. He wasn’t used to this at all, and it made him feel very strange inside. Even when they visited country areas in Europe, or the ski fields in the US, there was always some kind of faint background noise. Be it animals, distant highways, or the hum of modern appliances and machinery, there was constantly something to remind him that he wasn’t alone. But not here.  
  
Dom took a swig of his beer, his eyes beginning to adjust to the night light; the waxy full moon hanging in the sky and illuminating the peaks of the drifting ocean waves before him. He felt his skin awaken at the gentle, warm breeze and sighed at the way it flowed over his clothing, soothing his frazzled nerves. Kicking his shoes off, he let his toes revel in the open air and took another deep breath before exhaling it loudly.  
  
The utter silence was queer and invading, but after a few minutes, Dom found himself becoming accustomed to the way it quietened his mind and settled his emotions. It made things seem much more clear and simple, and all the problems of that complicated, stressful world back home seemed so far away. It was like he wasn’t Dominic Howard of Muse anymore, and that tense, difficult life he’d made wasn’t his either. Smiling to himself, he closed his eyes.  
  
“Gaia and me broke up,” Matt said suddenly, startling Dom out of his reverie.  
  
He opened his eyes and turned his head, his expression one of shock and amazement. Matt’s head stayed facing forward, eyes distant and staring at the dark, vast ocean. His demeanour was not at all in line with Dom’s sentiments a moment ago; his body tense and brow furrowed as he took another long draw of his beer.  
  
“ _What_? I thought you were getting married!” Dom spluttered.  
  
Matt was silent for a moment, eyes still ahead before he turned his face to Dom and cast them downward. His hands fidgeted on the bottle of his beer, picking at the label absently and sighing.  
  
“Yeah, we were, and that was kind of the problem,” Matt explained. “We’ve been fighting about it, and everything else to do with our future recently.”  
  
Dom, still dumbfounded, didn’t know what to say to that. Matt continued on.  
  
“I think we had different ideas about what we wanted to do, because she just wouldn’t let up about the wedding, and was trying to organise everything so quickly,” he said quietly. “And I suppose I didn’t want to rush into things, and so was being difficult, not committing to particular time frames or anything. I don’t know…I think it’s just me…”  
  
Dom watched him carefully, his expression sympathetic as Matt finally looked up at him, his eyes troubled and confused. He ran a nervous hand through his hair and shook his head a little before exhaling loudly.  
  
“It’s okay to get cold feet, you know, that’s probably what it is,” Dom said. “Getting married is a big step.”  
  
Matt chewed on his lip, furrowing his brow and shaking his head again.  
  
“No, I know, but I don’t think it’s just that. Fuck, I tried for a while to tell myself that’s all it was. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised it started long before we even suggested getting engaged,” he sighed. “I mean, I have great fun with her and love her a lot, but…I don’t know…something isn’t right…hasn’t _been_ right for a while. And not with her, or our relationship necessarily. It’s just…me…I’m fucked up…”  
  
Dom cracked a smile at this, reaching a hand out to Matt’s arm.  
  
“Well, we all knew that already,” he teased gently.  
  
Matt smiled a little, rolling his eyes.  
  
“No, but seriously, I think you’re just getting worried because you’re getting older, and things are beginning to settle down,” Dom explained. “We’ve never had to do that before. Just lived for the moment, always on the road and not knowing what was coming next. So of course commitment would be frightening if you haven’t had to do it before.”  
  
Matt shook his head again, sighing.  
  
“No, no, it’s not that. Well, not _just_ that, anyway. I’m really not joking when I say I think there’s something wrong with me. I haven’t felt this way before…just really fucking weird inside, like I’m changing or have changed and I don’t know what it is,” he explained. “I don’t feel right about myself…I don’t know who I am, which is fucking scary, because I’ve always been so comfortable with me before. Something’s the matter with me…I look at my life and suddenly wonder what the hell it is, and what I’m doing.”  
  
Surprised, Dom cocked his head, and leaned on the wooden armrest to move closer to Matt. He felt his breath stick in his throat at the undertone of Matt’s sentiments, and his own body became a little more tense.  
  
“You mean doing, as in…the band, as well…?” Dom asked quietly.  
  
Startled, Matt shook his head vigorously, frowning and putting his hand over Dom’s that was on his arm. He smiled sadly.  
  
“No, not at all, god no. Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare the hell out of you,” he said quickly. “Fact is, you guys are the only thing that I _am_ sure about, and actually does still feel completely right. It’s helped me not totally lose my mind these past couple of months, knowing there’s that constant.”  
  
Dom smiled with relief, his heart settling back comfortably into his chest.  
  
“But anyway, because I’ve been feeling so fucking off-kilter, it’s been screwing around with me and Gaia. I have no idea how to explain it to her, everything that I’ve been feeling. I’ve tried, but it just doesn’t work, and we yell and scream at each other, and she throws things around the house, because we can’t fix it. Can’t fix me,” Matt continued. “We’re just constantly at each other, never on the same wavelength, and I just…I couldn’t do it to her anymore. Didn’t want to put her through shit that wasn’t at all her fault, and that she couldn’t do anything about. She didn’t want to deal with it anymore either, so I left.”  
  
Matt shifted, bringing his hands up to his face and rubbing it slowly, still sighing. As he brought them back down, he reached back over to Dom’s shoulder, tugging absently at the material of his shirt. Dom gave him a half-smile, realising he had forgotten a lot of Matt’s little fidgeting quirks he had with the people he was close to, like grabbing on their clothes and maintaining body contact unconsciously. They hadn’t been so close these last few years, despite how much time they spent together, mostly because they had other people they cared about now and didn’t depend entirely on each other. Dom found now that he missed it.  
  
“I’ve got to sort my shit out before I can even think about going back to her. She pretty much said as much to me anyway, when I said I needed to leave. Not that I even know where to fucking start. I don’t even know what’s wrong with me,” Matt said, exasperated. “Maybe I’m just having an early mid-life crisis. Or a mental breakdown from all the touring. Or maybe I’m now permanently fucked up and no-one will ever be able to love me.”  
  
Dom arched his eyebrows, surprised at Matt’s harsh self-deprecation. He was usually only this ruthless with himself when it came to his music, being the perfectionist he was; not in regards to his own personality or who he was inside. It was unusual, and worrying because of that fact, and Dom reached out a hand to squeeze Matt’s shoulder in comfort.  
  
“Oh, come on mate, I don’t think that will ever be the case,” Dom said gently. “You’re just going through a rough patch. I think everyone questions themselves at some point, and what they’re doing with their life.”  
  
Matt shrugged, still playing distractedly with the seam of Dom’s sleeve, and Dom didn’t feel the need to remove his hand from Matt’s shoulder. They sat comfortably, quietly, for a few moments, Matt obviously still deep in thought about his predicament and Dom reflecting on Matt’s admissions about himself.  
  
He’d always seen Matt as someone so sure of himself, secure in the kind of person he wanted to be, and was as a result. This self-doubt and uncertainty was a new facet of his best friend he’d never seen before, and Dom found it quite amazing that he could still be surprised by Matt after all the years he’d known him.  
  
Dom took a deep breath and let his hand play mindlessly over the bony shapes of Matt’s shoulder, biting his lip before speaking.  
  
“Well, speaking of going through rough patches, things aren’t exactly going smoothly with me and Jess either,” he admitted.  
  
Matt’s eyes came back up to lock onto his, and Dom couldn’t help but look away after a few seconds, wandering down to his fingers. Matt had always had that penetrating gaze, especially with him, where Dom felt Matt could see right into him and to the thoughts in his head if he kept eye contact with him for too long. Right now, it was much too intense for Dom, due to the subject matter and how jittery he was already feeling about himself and Jess.  
  
“Not that we’ve been fighting, like you and Gaia, nothing like that,” Dom continued. “It’s just...I don’t know what it is...”  
  
Dom exhaled and sat back into his chair, letting his arm fall loosely from Matt’s shoulder to hang over the wooden armrest. Matt quirked an eyebrow at him.  
  
“Trouble in the bedroom?” he asked, mischief lacing his voice.  
  
An impish smile tugged at Matt’s lips, and Dom rolled his eyes, though feeling his cheeks flush a little. He knew Matt was attempting to lighten the mood of their conversation, and of course fell back onto his most comfortable topic; sex.  
  
“No, not that either, I’m perfectly capable, thank you,” Dom rebutted, a wry grin stretching across his face.  
  
He then swallowed and shrugged, his dangling arm swinging loosely as he did so.  
  
“If I ever got the chance, that is,” he said, more quietly now.  
  
He looked up and half expected Matt’s expression to be one of mockery. Even recently, with both of them having long term girlfriends, their adventures in the sack were still competitive; who got laid the most, did the craziest things with their significant other, and so on. So Dom was surprised when he saw Matt’s smile had disappeared, replaced with arched eyebrows and curious blue eyes.  
  
“You meant you haven’t been...” Matt started, gesturing with his hands to complete the sentence.  
  
Biting his lip again, Dom shook his head.  
  
“Not really. Not for a while. Over the last year or so, every time we’d see each other again, our...intimacy... just got less and less, until it got to a point where it just didn’t happen at all,” he explained.  
  
Matt’s eyes widened and he sat up further in his seat.  
  
“So how long has it been, then?”  
  
Dom grunted uncomfortably, looking over at him with pleading eyes.  
  
“ _Matt_...”  
  
It was Matt’s turn to roll his eyes and he waved his hand dismissively.  
  
“Come on, you can tell me, I’m not going to make fun of you, I promise,” he said. “How long?”  
  
Dom thought for a moment, sifting through the days and weeks, trying to remember the last time he and Jess had been passionate enough to translate it into something physical.  
  
“Um...two months? Maybe three...” he murmured, not exactly sure.  
  
Matt almost choked on his beer as he took another swig.  
  
“Fucking hell...”  
  
Dom laughed awkwardly, rubbing at his eye with one hand. He drew in another sip of his own beer and let out a sigh.  
  
“Shut up, okay, I know,” he grumbled. “And before you even ask, no I haven’t gone elsewhere for it.”  
  
Matt put up his hand in feigned innocence.  
  
“So, what, just not been horny, then?” he asked bluntly.  
  
Dom squirmed again, running a hand through his hair and chuckling wryly.  
  
“Didn’t know I was under interrogation here,” he mocked. “But no, that isn’t it.”  
  
He laughed again quietly at himself, shaking his head and feeling his neck flush.  
  
“That’s not what it is at all, _definitely_ not, believe me.”  
  
Matt giggled at his implication, shifting to fold a leg under himself and turning to face Dom a little more.  
  
“So, a lot of being left in your own capable hands then, so to speak?”  
  
“For fuck’s sake, just cut off my bollocks and be done with it, why don’t you?” Dom cried, though there was no venom behind his words.  
  
He laughed bitterly and Matt chuckled, leaning forward again to squeeze his shoulder in affection.  
  
“Sorry man, you know I can’t help myself sometimes, sex on the brain twenty-four-seven,” he admitted sheepishly.  
  
Matt leant back again and let out a short, cynical laugh, his eyes locked on the dark, churning waves lapping at the beach before them.  
  
“Even with all the yelling and screaming and everything turning to shit between me and Gaia, we’ve still been shagging like rabbits just about every day,” Matt said, a half-smile on his lips. “As fucked up as everything is, I just can’t stop myself.”  
  
Dom grinned, shaking his head and finishing off the last of his beer.  
  
“So let’s see; you’ve got so much fire, that you just about kill one another, and I’ve got so little that me and Jess can’t even hold a decent conversation, let alone get laid,” Dom pondered. “What a fucking pair you and me are.”  
  
Matt laughed, aware of their almost comical predicament, and set his empty beer bottle down on the floor next to his chair.  
  
“That we are, that we are.”  
  
They fell silent again, and just watched the foam of gently lapping waves paint overlapping curves of fizz along the dark grey expanse of sand on the shore. The stars stretched out bright and numerous in the inky black sky above, and Dom felt the warm air fill his lungs and swim in his head. His body began to relax again, and he wished he could just stay like this for a while longer yet; drinking beer on quiet island nights with his best friend. That would be nice.  
  
Dom turned his head to look at Matt’s shadowed profile, evidently lost deep in thought, brow furrowed.  
  
“Another beer?” Dom asked, spoiling the quiet.  
  
Matt’s expression softened and he smiled, nodding as he flicked his gaze over to Dom.  
  
“Sounds good.”  
  
* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days continue to move slowly as Dom tries to settle himself on the island.

Jess didn’t turn up in the following days. She didn’t call either, to explain her absence, and Dom wasn’t exactly surprised. She was probably dreading this trip as much as he had been, and it was likely she was trying to bury herself in work as an excuse not to be able to get away. He knew that that in itself should send up warning flags that something was wrong between them, and nothing they tried was going to work, but he still couldn’t bring himself to face such harsh truths just yet. Both of them had found it easier so far to just remain in this uncertain limbo, and Dom wasn’t keen to be the one to tip the scales and change everything.  
  
So, he did nothing, just carried on like this was a normal trip, which was particularly easier with Matt now in the picture. For the few days after their first meeting, Dom saw neither hide nor hair of Matt, and was once again left to his own devices; consisting of exhaustive drumming followed by afternoon dips in the ocean, sometimes snorkelling or scuba diving. The drumming was somewhat therapeutic, and the swimming relaxing up to a point, but still Dom often found his mind wandering. He worried about what he was going to say to Jess when she got here, what exactly they were going to do to fix their relationship, and more importantly, whether or not either of them even wanted to fix it anyway.  
  
Dom wasn’t sure what he wanted. He loved Jess, he honestly did. But he knew that sometimes it wasn’t enough. Though it was supposed to be, wasn’t it? According to all the love songs, poetry and literature in the world. But in reality, Dom knew better. Their love was weakening because of their lack of time together, and deep down, Dom knew Jess was tired of it. She wanted a simpler life, a simpler relationship. Which she deserved, really. It was just his stubborn heart and ego that wouldn’t let her go. Not just yet. And she wouldn’t push him away.  
  
After several days of attempting to distract himself with passive, leisurely activities, Dom realised it wasn’t really working very well, and that he needed to get motivated in order to sort his own head out. Sitting around and getting just about everything done for him wasn’t helpful, it just gave him more time to wallow in self-pity, so he decided he’d try to be as self-sufficient and independent as he could. He bought a second-hand bicycle from one of the shop vendors down the road, and began exploring the island outside the resort.  
  
He took a slow, curious ride along the firm sandy road that led out to the other side of the island, and noted the smaller tracks here and there which lead off to clusters of modest wooden houses. Poking a head around one such corner, he spied young children playing a local version of Cops and Robbers, chasing one another over short fences, through vegetation, and in and out of front doors. A mother leaned her head out a window to berate them in a language Dom didn’t recognise, and he grinned in amusement at their antics, only to be caught sniggering by the same mum, and receiving an exasperated frown in return. Flushing, Dom put an end to his spying and turned back onto the main road, to continue his journey.  
  
He hadn’t been aware that there was a fair community of people that lived in this island; he’d simply thought it was the two flashy resorts, and that was it. Most of the other rich visitors undoubtedly thought the same, and he suddenly felt a little bit like an ignorant and snobby foreigner, trampling all over local culture. The wealthy resorts were no doubt viewed by the native residents as intrusions, catering to the needs of elite Westerners.  
  
Well, Dom decided he was going to break that mould, and not just confine himself to the resort and the beach; he was actually going to become involved with the culture and learn something for a change. Sure, he’d been to nearly every city and country in the world already, but the majority of that was through Western channels, via interpreters, hotels, media, and tour guides. It was all very controlled and selective; just to make him feel more comfortable, at home, or to project a particular view to the rest of the world. And he knew it didn’t really give an accurate picture of most places they’d been. It was time to change that, he thought.  
  
Dom steered the handlebars of his bike to the right, taking a path upward that forked off from the main road, heading higher into the hilly landscape. He found himself having to stand up on the pedals every now and then as the slope steepened here and there, and his lungs started to burn with exertion. He knew he was pretty fit from all the tiring work he did behind his drum kit on tour, but some parts of his body got better workouts than others. His legs and arms were perfectly okay, and lung capacity was well up there, but over the last few years he’d found himself growing a bit soft and squishy around the middle.  
  
Sitting down on his arse all night during performances didn’t exactly do wonders for it; nor for his stomach, especially coupled with his love for alcohol and food. It wasn’t quite at the beer belly stage yet, but he’d noticed the slowdown in his metabolism with his age that allowed the storing of all those extra calories.  
  
Time was, when he was young, the three of them could go out drinking ridiculous amounts every weekend, and also often during the week, and he’d never see a trace of those carbs on his body. It would just burn them up like they never existed in the first place, and he’d be able to repeat the pattern of overconsumption month after month. But he was not so lucky anymore, he knew that. Every extra beer at the after parties was another notch in his belt; the belt that needed to be loosened around a growing belly and arse.  
  
He’d wanted to do something about it for a while, and now here seemed like the perfect opportunity; the scenery was beautiful and the bike riding provided him an escape from his guilt about his western capitalist elitism. So Dom clenched his teeth and pressed down harder with his legs to push himself that little bit harder up the hill until he reached a more flattened, clear path.  
  
As the track levelled out, he loosened his feet on the pedals and let the momentum take him, cruising along casually as he surveyed the view to his left-hand side. He’d managed to work his way up one side of a hill that overlooked a hidden, sparkling bay of turquoise and ivory, sheltered on its sides by lush, green palms and thick undergrowth. He could smell gentle, bitter scent of salt water as a slow breeze rustled its way up the incline from the ocean to his position along the track, and Dom felt his thoughts become sluggish once more.  
  
He slowed his bike to a stop and paused for a few minutes, letting the smells and sounds wash over him. He couldn’t hear the sound of the lapping waves from up here, but the trees replaced the steady rhythm with a gentle, measured creaking of branches and intermittent rustle of leaves. The occasional insect chirped and bird twittered nearby, and off in the distance Dom heard faint sounds of laughter and voices.  
  
He ran a hand through his hair slowly, letting the breeze ruffle his blonde locks and closing his eyes for a moment. He could hear his heart thudding slowly in his ears, and his breaths drawing deeply in through his nostrils before being exhaled as soft sighs through his mouth. The sun beamed down pleasantly on his skin to warm him, as the gentle wind captured the moisture from his perspiring body.  
  
For a few precious seconds he felt his emotions settle again, anxieties and pressures slipping away from him like the evaporated sweat off his skin. His mind was lighter here, freer, and the world he’d left behind was only a hazy, insignificant memory. This place had such a strange effect on him, unlike anywhere else he’d been so far in his life.  
  
But soon enough, the niggling worries came crawling back, invading his head and disturbing his calm, and he opened his eyes back up, shaking his head. Positioning one foot back on the pedal of the bike, he pushed with his other foot to get himself moving again and resumed his journey. He allowed himself to cruise along for a few minutes longer, mentally noting the location of the bay for later reference, before turning onto another path that lead back down the hillside.  
  
After a few minutes of gentle cycling, he came across the source of some of the voices and laughter he’d heard earlier on; another gathering of local people. Unlike the last, this one seemed to be some sort of market or community area, with people selling their wares and just generally socialising.  
  
Spotting a few stands of delicious, unfamiliar fruit and vegetables, Dom pulled his bike over and hopped off. If he truly wanted local interaction, here was his first chance. Running a hand through his hair and trying not to look completely out of place, Dom took a deep breath and stepped forward into the throng of people.  
  
* * *  
  
By the time he got back to his villa, Dom was completely exhausted. He’d spent a good hour fighting his way through the food market and getting caught up in broken conversation with enthusiastic, friendly locals. Once they’d found out he was from one of the resorts, but wanted to learn about the island outside those walls, they’d taken him in like a new member of the family.  
  
His interest in the food they were selling made them even more doting, and he’d ended up with boxes and bags of fresh produce strapped to all vacant parts of his bike and body. He’d had to be exceptionally firm in refusing someone to accompany him with even more food back to his villa. They’d told him that he needed to bring his wife next time because she would know more about what was needed for cooking, and could help him carry it all back as well. Dom had been much too tired at that stage to correct them, that it was him cooking the food; he simply nodded and smiled before escaping back to the villa.  
  
Dom’s fridge and pantry were now stocked full of food that he had no idea how he was going to eat all by himself, but had still only cost him less than half of what he’d pay back home. At least he didn’t have to think about what he was going to have for meals for the next week.  
  
After a quick cool shower, Dom settled himself down on the couch with some fruit juice and magazines he’d bought at the airport last week. He flicked through them idly, yawning and letting his eyelids droop. The adage was old but still true; all that fresh air _had_ made him tired. It wasn’t like he normally got a lot of it, what with all the aeroplanes, cars, hotels, clubs and concert halls he spent most of his time in these days. As much as he loved nature and the outdoors, actually spending decent amounts of time out in it seemed to elude him, even in their time off.  
  
In some ways, he envied Chris for his more simple life in Teignmouth, living down by the sea in a quiet town, always able to get outdoors once a day with his kids. Nature was right there; the smell of the ocean, the biting wind, the rocky cliffs and grassy fields. Sure, London was right on a river, but Dom knew the Thames didn’t really count in that respect anymore because it was so altered and polluted. The city smelled of industry and commercialism, the night filled with bright lights and people yelling abuse at each other in the street, and paths of hard asphalt and concrete that stretched up into the surrounding buildings. Dom knew he had chosen that life and that there were good reasons for him wanting to move there in the first place, but sometimes it all got a bit too much.  
  
He quickly found himself becoming settled on this island, and part of him just didn’t want to leave anytime soon. He could stay here and not go back to that hectic, crazy life of endless touring and interviews, plus the media types and fame-seekers trying to kiss his arse. But then, he knew, he’d miss it. He’d miss the rush of walking out on stage to a packed stadium, hearing the roar of the crowd, and spending all his days and nights with his best friends. He wanted it both ways, the escape and the success, but knew it wasn’t possible.  
  
Dom set his glass down on the table and slid down further on the couch, shifting himself to lie down, kicking his shoes off. Stretching, he scratched absently at his belly, rumpling up his shirt to let the warm midday air hit his skin. He rolled his shoulders again, the stiffness in them not yet quite dissipated, and let his head rest back against the cushions.  
  
He was sure he only shut his eyes for a moment, resting them between articles in the magazine, but found himself woken by the buzz of his mobile phone. It vibrated a slow path across the coffee table, and blinking sleepily, taking in a deep breath, Dom grabbed it before it threw itself off the table. A faint smile ghosted his lips as he saw who was calling.  
  
“Hey man, how’re you doing?” he asked, answering the phone.  
  
“Yeah alright, I guess,” Matt replied on the other end. “Well, actually, a little bit shite to be honest, but I’ll tell you about that later. How’s things with you?”  
  
Dom filled him in on what he’d been up to the last few days, which wasn’t really very much, and then just chatted idly about their plans for the next album. They agreed they should meet up the following day at the studio just to jam and mess about, see what they could come up with. Matt informed Dom he had a few new riffs he wanted to show him, and bits and pieces of piano work he wasn’t really sure what to do with; he needed an outside opinion.  
  
Though far from an expert in piano composition, Matt often turned to Dom for input, appreciating any thoughts, be they positive or negative. Dom knew it was because Matt trusted him, to be honest, and because he was able to voice any opposition he might have to moving their sound in particular directions, or even just to stop Matt from being a little too self-indulgent.  
  
Though sometimes that was easier said than done; Matt could be quite sensitive, and would occasionally get defensive if Dom didn’t agree with him. At those times, it was all about perseverance, explaining the point to Matt clearly and candidly without making it too personal. And in the end, it was always worth it. Matt’s creative spark would be ignited further from the challenge, and he would work even harder to get things up to scratch.  
  
“So, what are you up to at the moment then?” Matt enquired after their shop-talk trailed off. “Any plans for the rest of the day?”  
  
Dom stretched, smoothing down his shirt and running a hand through his hair. He gazed over at the clock and felt his stomach rumble.  
  
“Nah, not really. But I’m getting pretty fucking hungry now, could go some lunch,” he replied after a moment.  
  
Matt murmured in agreement.  
  
“Yeah me too, want to grab some together then? Don’t really know what I’m in the mood for though,” he pondered.  
  
Dom shrugged, despite the fact that Matt couldn’t actually see him, and stood up off the couch. He wandered over to the kitchen and began rifling through the pantry.  
  
“Well, I’ve got loads of food here, you should come ’round and I’ll throw something together if you want,” he suggested.  
  
Dom could hear the smile in Matt’s voice as he spoke, and could clearly see in his head the goofy grin Matt was no doubt flashing at that moment.  
  
“I was hoping you’d say that.”  
  
Dom chuckled, shaking his head wryly.  
  
“Ah, I see now, this was all just a cunning plan to get me to make lunch for you then, wasn’t it?” he teased.  
  
Matt’s short, ridiculous giggle echoed out the earpiece.  
  
“Maybe,” he murmured. “But you know how I love your cooking. You’re the fucking best out of anyone I know.”  
  
Dom grinned to himself, knowing exactly the devious little game Matt was playing; buttering him up to get what he wanted. Truth was, Dom knew he was a sucker for compliments, especially from Matt, and the flattery would go far in changing his mind about many things. Unlike Matt, he was easily won over by praise, even if he knew it was shallow or inflated.  
  
“Hmm, oh really? The best, you think?” Dom asked coyly, grinning to himself.  
  
“Yeah, absolutely, you are,” Matt replied, the smile still in his tone.  
  
“Of anyone?”  
  
“Yep, anyone.”  
  
“Even better than Gaia, then?” he ventured.  
  
As Matt fell silent for a few moments, Dom thought maybe he’d pushed things too far. He wasn’t exactly sure how everything was going in that regard, and Matt was likely quite sensitive about the issues he was facing with Gaia.  
  
“Yeah, you are, even her,” Matt replied finally. “But don’t tell her I said that, or she’ll fucking kill me. Even more than she already wants to.”  
  
The soft giggle that followed laid Dom’s fears to rest. He hadn’t wanted to spoil the light-hearted mood, and fortunately Matt didn’t seem too bothered about mentioning her. Still, Dom decided it was best to move briskly onward in conversation.  
  
“Oh Matt, you’re so sweet,” he giggled, tongue-in-cheek. “Flattery will get you everywhere. Keep it up and you might just acquire your own personal chef.”  
  
Matt laughed, and Dom felt his belly fill with a comfortable warmth. He felt a whole lot better about the shit he was in with Jess when he had Matt to talk to, and he was glad Matt was enthusiastic about hanging out together again.  
  
“Or you could just move in to cook and clean for me,” Matt replied. “You’re good at all kinds of housework. You could be my second wife.”  
  
Dom snorted and Matt giggled mischievously on the other end of the phone.  
  
“Cheeky fucker,” Dom muttered, a grin pulling at the side of his mouth. “You’ll pay for that later.”  
  
Matt laughed again, and Dom began pulling out ingredients from the fridge and pantry, phone still glued to his ear. He extracted a saucepan from a cupboard with a clatter, invoking another giggle in Matt, before opening the fridge again and staring inside.  
  
“So what are you going to make for me then?” Matt asked after a few moments of Dom rifling about.  
  
“I haven’t really decided yet. What do you feel like?”  
  
“Don’t know. Something cold, maybe? Like, not a curry or anything like that. Not really the weather for it,” Matt said thoughtfully.  
  
Dom took out some more vegetables, throwing them on the counter. He pressed a bunch of fresh basil to his face, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent, before murmuring to himself and setting it down beside the veggies.  
  
“Yeah, well I don’t really have much in the way of meat anyway-”  
  
“Ah, so you finally admit it. No wonder women always prefer me.”  
  
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. Wanker.”  
  
Matt giggled again and Dom smiled.  
  
“So, it’ll probably just end up being some kind of salad or whatever,” Dom continued. “The sooner you get your arse over here, the sooner you can help me decide.”  
  
“I’m already here you tart, so come and open the fucking door,” Matt informed him cheekily.  
  
Pausing and turning toward the door, Dom shook his head at Matt’s audacity. Even though he’d said it in jest, it probably really was Matt’s plan to show up at his place and get a meal made for him. Hanging up his phone, he threw it down on the couch and opened the front door to a grinning Matt.  
  
* * *  
  
In the end, Matt hadn’t really been any more help in person than on the phone in trying to decide what to eat for lunch. He wandered idly around Dom’s villa, nosing through belongings that were strewn about the place and peering out each window in turn to see the views from every angle. He walked out onto the back deck, inside again, then repeated the action, making small talk with Dom all the while. The behaviour didn’t even register with Dom; he knew Matt’s personality quirks by heart, and simply responded to his comments and questions without so much as a second thought.  
  
While Matt was pottering about, amusing himself, Dom made up a simple salad of some leafy greens, herbs, peppers and avocado, and served it with various breads and nibblies he’d bought that day.  
  
Upon returning inside, Matt dove eagerly into the cheese and bread on offer, but made a face at Dom’s preference for the bowl of olives. A point that he’d brought up on more than one occasion previously, Dom expressed his dismay at how Matt could be engaged to an Italian and live in Italy but not even like olives. Matt just rolled his eyes and informed Dom he had no taste, citing his fondness for Marmite as evidence.  
  
The general ribbing of one another continued throughout lunch, and then into the afternoon as they retired once again out to the deck. This time, cups of tea were favoured in place of beer, and Dom settled himself down with his feet basking in the afternoon sun. There was almost no breeze that day, and the still, humid air fell over his skin like a warm blanket, making him a little drowsy again. Dom blinked, widening his eyes to keep himself awake, before stretching out his toes and yawning.  
  
“Keeping you up, am I?” Matt asked with a grin.  
  
Smiling, Dom shook his head, running a hand through his hair.  
  
“Nah, I’m alright, already had a snooze earlier,” he replied. “Just the fresh air, exercise and good food wearing me out. But I’m not about to fall asleep on you. You’re not that boring.”  
  
Matt snickered, taking a sip of his tea.  
  
“Thanks,” he grinned. “Nice of you not to make some crack about my babbling making people unconscious.”  
  
“Yeah, I could have, but decided to take the moral high ground because I’m mature.”  
  
Dom could only keep a straight face for a few moments before bursting into laughter, which was joined swiftly by Matt’s amused giggle. His eyes tracked over Matt’s wide grin before meeting his eyes, the blue depths dancing as he watched.  
  
Matt reached a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, sighing with a smile still on his lips as his laughter died down. The fingers of his other hand played around the handle of his cup before skimming up onto the rim, and then tapping a rhythm out down the side.  
  
“Speaking of my big mouth, I was going to tell you why the last few days have been crap for me,” Matt said.  
  
Nodding, Dom turned to face Matt a little more, stretching an arm out across the small table between them.  
  
“Oh yeah, that’s right. I assume it’s got to do with Gaia then?” Dom asked. “Things still not going well?”  
  
Matt’s eyes clouded a little and he sighed, rubbing at the side of his face.  
  
“Yeah, I’ve called her up a couple of times since I last saw you, but every time I speak to her, it just seems to make things worse,” he explained. “We’ve ended up arguing about the same shit again, and it gets us fucking nowhere.”  
  
Dom shifted his leg up to rest an ankle across his knee, rubbing at the arch of his foot with his other hand. He watched as Matt’s eyes remained focused on his tea cup, tracing patterns along the side of the crockery with his fingertips. He licked his lips before speaking again.  
  
“I think she wants me to try and explain what the fuck is going on with me, but I can’t. I mean, how do you do that, you know? Trying to put into words something that I can’t even understand myself; it’s fucking impossible,” Matt sighed. “And I bloody tell her that, but she doesn’t believe me. I think she thinks I’m hiding something, like I’m cheating on her or some bollocks.”  
  
Matt’s eyes flicked up at this, meeting Dom’s.  
  
“Which I’m not, by the way. Shit, I wish it was something that simple. Then we could just break up or repair the damage,” he continued. “Though I don’t actually blame her for thinking that, because all my attempts at an honest explanation have been pretty pathetic. I just... I don’t know...”  
  
He shrugged, picking up his tea again and taking several longer gulps. Setting the cup back down, he took the tea bag label between his index and middle finger, tugging on it to make the bag bounce up and down in the remaining liquid.  
  
Dom waited a few moments, watching these motions carefully, before speaking.  
  
“So I assume then you haven’t gotten any further in working out why you’re feeling so weird?” he asked. “Being alone and away from everything hasn’t helped at all?”  
  
Releasing the tea label from his grip, Matt laid his hand flat on the table, splaying his fingers before tapping his fingertips on the surface in sequence, one at a time.  
  
“No, not really. Pretty much just the same as I said to you before. I don’t recognise the person I’ve become, which is something that doesn’t feel right,” he explained. “I was always so sure before, you know? Knew who I was, what I wanted and where I was going. I didn’t necessarily know the _how_ , but that didn’t matter. Now I fucking don’t know anything.”  
  
He began to play along the grain of the wood with his fingernails, studying the shapes and biting his lip.  
  
“Sounds stupid and makes no sense, I know,” Matt continued. “That’s why I’ve had such a shit time trying to explain it to Gaia.”  
  
Dom shook his head, a vague smile playing on his lips. There was never any worry about him thinking Matt’s point of view was stupid or made no sense. Though he may not always completely understand what Matt was talking about, or where he got his particularly crazy ideas from, he usually got the general gist and realised there was usually important motivations behind them. It was something he’d grown to accept and appreciate over the years in their close friendship, and recognised it as another endearing quirk in the Bellamy personality.  
  
“Nah, it’s not stupid, I know what you mean,” he reassured him. “I think sometimes we get so swept up in our touring and the media bullshit that we forget about ourselves, and who we really are. I know I thought I’d lost myself along the way there a few times.”  
  
Matt smiled appreciatively, the relief evident in his gaze.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
Dom nodded.  
  
His arm on the table wandered across to Matt’s still-fidgeting hand, beginning to trace the outline of Matt’s digits with his own fingertips. Matt splayed his fingers further, allowing Dom to track around the bumps of bony knuckles and down into the sensitive stretches of skin between fingers. Two sets of eyes, one grey, one blue, followed the progress, and Dom carefully repeated the path back and forth two more times, lip caught between his teeth in thought.  
  
On the last pass, his fingers failed to stop at Matt’s wrist, and instead continued up onto his forearm, now following the path of the prominent veins he found there. He shifted tack to trace them only with his middle and index finger, studying the way Matt’s veins yielded when he pressed down, only to pop back up again afterwards.  
  
He smiled at the memories that came back to him; of playing this same game when they were kids back in Devon, where they used to enliven dreary nights getting high and drinking cheap bourbon, just the two of them. He’d called it ‘Poke the Skinny Bastard’, driving Matt insane at the time by constantly drawing attention to the way his veins stuck out on his small, scrawny frame. However, Dom sometimes suspected it was the reason Matt became obsessed with drawing over them in later years, emphasising them for himself and everyone else.  
  
And now, Matt seemed not to care all that much, just letting Dom’s fingers follow their own path, a soft smile on his lips as he watched.  
  
“So how did you, er, find yourself again, then?” Matt asked.  
  
Coming back up over Matt’s wrist, Dom flattened his hand out over Matt’s, letting their fingers rest together. He shrugged.  
  
“You’ve just got to forget about the spin, the personality you make up for everyone else, and just focus on your own head for a while,” he explained slowly. “I think you’re usually pretty honest with yourself, so just take a look at what it is you think has changed and go from there. I mean, change isn’t necessarily bad, right?”  
  
“Nah, of course not. It’s just usually me instigating the change, only this time it’s not, you know?” Matt replied. “Felt a bit blindsided by not being aware of it happening.”  
  
Dom smiled, cocking his head.  
  
“Oh okay, I get it now,” he said.  
  
“What? What do you get?”  
  
“Your response, the panicking. You don’t like not being in control.”  
  
“Yeah thanks, Freud.”  
  
Dom laughed, and Matt grinned too.  
  
“I know I don’t, not when it comes to me anyway,” Matt continued. “Otherwise I feel like other people are shaping me for their own purposes.”  
  
“Conspiracy afoot, eh?”  
  
“You know what I mean,” Matt replied wryly. “I don’t want to be defined by what other people expect of me, the kind of person they think I am, or want me to be. That’s for me to decide.”  
  
“But isn’t that the problem? You can’t decide who you want to be?”  
  
Matt nodded, turning his hand over to allow Dom’s fingertips to rest in the palm of his hand.  
  
“Part of it, yeah,” he admitted. “And I can’t work that out because I don’t know myself right now, don’t really know what I feel. It’s all just a big vicious cycle of self-imposed mind-fucking.”  
  
Matt was still half-smiling as he spoke, but Dom knew he still meant what he said. Clearly, Matt was feeling a bit untethered and insecure, and was reaching for something to ground him, reassure him he wasn’t losing his mind. As he’d said, Dom knew what it was like to feel that way, and it had been his friends, predominantly Matt, who had helped him sort his head out. They knew him best.  
  
“Now, come on, it’s not all gone tits up just yet,” Dom said firmly. “And I think you’re being too hard on yourself anyway. You don’t need to be one hundred percent sure of yourself and your life right now, though I know you want to be.”  
  
“Yeah, but – ”  
  
“No, I mean it; you’re much more sorted out than you think. You’ve always been that way, and just because now you feel a bit off, it isn’t the end of the world, okay?” Dom continued. “You’re stronger than you think, and smart and determined, you’ll work it out.”  
  
Matt quirked his eyebrows, cocking his head a little and then shaking it awkwardly.  
  
“Oh, er, I don’t know about that, um, I just kind of blag it most of the time,” he said dismissively.  
  
“Bollocks. You’ve always been the strong-willed one of all of us; full of ambition and never willing to settle for less. And I know you think that’s only musically-speaking, but I think it goes all the way through,” Dom argued. “You’re resilient, and clever, and sometimes you don’t see that, so I have to tell you.”  
  
Matt snorted, shifting in his seat and drawing his hand back around his mug.  
  
“Piss off, I don’t need humouring, thanks,” Matt said, smiling uncomfortably.  
  
Dom shook his head, grinning.  
  
“I’m not humouring you, you twat, I’m telling the truth. You just fucking hate compliments, which is even more reason for me to give you them,” he replied. “You are clever, and strong, whether you like it or not. Not to mention honest, creative, funny, and always infuriatingly modest.”  
  
Matt grumbled in protest, rubbing at the side of his face, and then at his eye.  
  
“Stop it, prick.”  
  
Dom chuckled.  
  
“See,” he said. “Oh, and I’ve got plenty more. You’re a real laugh to hang out with, fantastic to talk with to the point where I can’t shut you up, and also incredibly loyal and always there for me. Should I continue?”  
  
“Please don’t.”  
  
Dom grinned, always amused by Matt’s embarrassment at being complimented.  
  
“The point I’m trying to make is that I know you, okay? And so do Chris and Tom. Use us as a sounding board for how you’re feeling or whatever’s going on in your head; it helps a lot, believe me,” he explained. “It’s much easier to gain perspective and settle your emotions when you have your closest mates to ground you. We can tell you if you’re acting like a prat, and we’ll be there to support you.”  
  
Matt finished his tea and set the cup back down on the table, a wry smile on his lips.  
  
“What, have you been studying to be a shrink or something, eh?” he quipped. “Next you’ll be suggesting a fucking group hug.”  
  
“Is that a request?”  
  
“I don’t think so.”  
  
“I think it’s your subconscious making itself known.”  
  
“Fuck off.”  
  
Dom stood up out of his chair, a wicked smile on his lips.  
  
“You’re trying to tell me you want a little affection. Come on then.”  
  
Matt’s eyes bugged and he shifted in his chair, a half-embarrassed expression on his face.  
  
“No, I’m fine, go away.”  
  
Dom shook his head, rounding the table and tracing his fingers across the surface. Matt scrambled to upright sitting position, tensing and getting ready to bolt from his chair. His eyes danced with both discomfort and amusement, not entirely sure about Dom taking the piss in this manner.  
  
He wasn’t quick enough as Dom lunged at him, grabbing him by the wrist as he leapt from his chair, desperate to escape. He squirmed and giggled awkwardly as Dom wrestled with him for grip of his other arm, trying to wrench free but failing due to the drummer’s larger and more muscular frame.  
  
“Dom, Dom – no, don’t – I don’t – ah nghh, stop it! Dom!!”  
  
He squealed and grumbled in protest as Dom pinned Matt’s arms against his chest and then wrapped his own around the lithe, wiry frontman.  
  
“You know you want it,” Dom laughed, holding him tight.  
  
“Bloody let me go, you big fucking girl!” Matt complained, but there was a chuckle in his throat.  
  
After a few moments, his body relaxed and he surrendered, letting Dom hug him. He shook his head, then rested his chin Dom’s shoulder. A resigned sigh escaped his lips and he flattened his trapped palms against the fabric of Dom’s shirt, fingers splayed.  
  
“Hugs fix everything then, do they, Professor Howard?” he mocked.  
  
Dom laughed, allowing his hand to slip up onto the back of Matt’s neck.  
  
“Sometimes.”  
  
He let the hug linger a little longer, then slowly released him, hand still in place. A soft, slightly amused smile graced Matt’s face, but his demeanour also seemed more calm as a result of Dom’s pressure into affection.  
  
“Okay, well, I think I’ve had enough of pouring out my soul for today,” Matt stated, loosening up his freed arms.  
  
“Gonna head off back to your place then?”  
  
But Matt shook his head, quirking an eyebrow at Dom.  
  
“Nah, I think I’ll stick around and pester you some more, you know?” he grinned.  
  
Dom chuckled.  
  
“Fair enough,” he replied. “What did you want to do, then?”  
  
“Did you bring your iPod?”


	3. Chapter 3

Wrapping his fingers firmly around the metal handrail of the ladder, Dom heaved himself slowly out of the water, his diving tank and gear now noticeably heavier than they seemed a moment ago. He wrenched himself up onto the boat, soaking the wooden deck as he swung his legs over, the water dripping down from his limbs in a large radius around him. He removed the mouthpiece, spitting the bitter taste of saltwater from his mouth, and peeled the goggles from his head.  
  
Looking up, he spotted Matt stretched out on a towel, bone dry, soaking up the sun. A pair of dark sunglasses wrapped around his eyes, and one hand splayed out across his pale stomach, while the other propped a book open.  
  
Dom perched on the edge of the boat, unbuckling and removing his tank, and pulling off his fins, glancing up at Matt occasionally.  
  
“You should’ve come for a dive, it was amazing,” Dom called to him. “So many fish.”  
  
Matt turned his head away from his book to look at him, still not moving from his comfortable spot.  
  
“It’s cos it’s the ocean, Dom; that’s where they live,” Matt dead-panned.  
  
“Cheeky.”  
  
Matt grinned, his azure eyes peeking out from under his sunglasses as he propped the arm up with two long fingers.  
  
“I’m sure it was great, but I’m fine here,” he informed Dom. “I might go for a dip later, but I’m just happy soaking up the sun right now.”  
  
Dom unzipped his wetsuit, starting to peel it from his body, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.  
  
“Doesn’t seem to be working very well,” he teased, eyes on Matt. “You still bloody look like a tub of yoghurt.”  
  
He never got tired of riling Matt up about his inability to develop a tan, even though he knew his own was only slightly better. It was just amusing to see Matt get worked up over it.  
  
“Fuck you, I don’t need a tan,” he replied indignantly. “Women love me just the way I am.”  
  
Dom knew Matt was scowling at him now from underneath those glasses, and trying desperately to pretend he didn’t care. Dom knew better.  
  
“What, as a pasty-arse, scrawny Pom?”  
  
“No, they think my skin is, er... flawless, beautiful and radiant.”  
  
Dom burst out laughing, drawing the last of his wetsuit off his legs so he was just left in his swimming trunks.  
  
“Their words, not mine.”  
  
Dom snorted, beginning to search around for his towel.  
  
“Oh right, and where did you hear this?”  
  
“Read it, actually. The fans have lots of nice things to say about me.”  
  
“Fuckin’ hell, you haven’t been on the forums again, have you? Those threads will do your head in, you know.”  
  
Matt giggled, the insults about his pale skin quickly being forgotten.  
  
“Yeah I know, I haven’t looked for a long time, but after all the problems with Gaia, I was feeling like shit and in need of an ego boost,” he explained.  
  
Dom raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Not just trawling for sex threads again, then?”  
  
Matt coughed, shifting and grinning guiltily.  
  
“Maybe,” he admitted. “But those are flattering too... er, if not a bit weird sometimes.”  
  
Dom spotted his towel rolled up neatly under Matt’s head. He sauntered over, dripping water on Matt from his still-wet hair and trunks, causing Matt to cry out in protest. He sat up quickly, trying to escape the icy drops on his heated skin, and Dom used the opportunity to steal back his towel.  
  
Pushing his sunnies up onto the top of his hair, Matt narrowed his eyes in annoyance before settling back down, _sans_ towel for his head.  
  
“The fans can be a bit out there with their tastes, I know,” Dom agreed. “Some of it I really just don’t understand.”  
  
Matt nodded, setting his open book down on his chest, while Dom sat down next to him to dry his hair.  
  
“Mmhmm, yeah, like the mouth porn.”  
  
Dom paused, towel still in his hair, and raised both eyebrows.  
  
“Mouth porn?”  
  
Matt laughed, pulling his sunglasses back over his eyes.  
  
“Yep, pretty much involves them getting off on anything to do with my mouth; photos, video, whatever. Well, not just mine, yours as well.”  
  
Dom started laughing again, shaking his head.  
  
“Not Chris then?”  
  
“Not so much as us. They don’t seem that interested in his moist hole.”  
  
Dom made a face, and Matt giggled.  
  
“Their words, not mine!”  
  
“Yeah, but fucking hell, I didn’t need that graphic description of Chris, thanks,” Dom complained.  
  
Matt grinned devilishly, raising an eyebrow from underneath his sunglasses, and setting his book down on the deck beside him.  
  
“But you don’t mind the graphic descriptions of me?” he asked, feigning an innocent tone.  
  
Dom rolled his eyes, now rubbing his legs down with the towel.  
  
“You’re such an egotistical twat, Bellamy.”  
  
“Oh, come on now, just admit it; you fancy me,” Matt taunted.  
  
“You wish. You think everyone fancies you,” Dom replied.  
  
“I can’t help that I have a natural charisma that so many people find appealing,” Matt drawled. “I don’t blame you for falling for it either. And I’m not adverse to the attention.”  
  
Dom noticed the way Matt added a particularly seductive tone to his voice as he spoke, and how he then snagged his bottom lip between his teeth. The hand that was splayed across his belly trailed up his chest, and then those same long fingers snaked their way over Dom’s bicep and up to his shoulder.  
  
Dom rolled his eyes again, shoving Matt away and throwing him a weary look.  
  
“Don’t start that shit with me, you pervert,” Dom warned, a half-smile still on his lips. “I’m not one of those convenient warm bodies you can turn to when you’re not getting any.”  
  
The coaxing glint disappeared from Matt’s eyes, and he sighed in resignation as he realised Dom wasn’t buying his mock seduction. He opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it, resting back onto his elbows again. He shrugged and grinned, the self-satisfied expression still on his face.  
  
Dom ran a hand through his hair, attempting for some semblance of style, though the salt water and sea air proved it difficult. A longing for some conditioner and product niggled in the back of his head, but he dismissed it. It was only Matt that could see him out here, along with the captain and a few hotel staff back on land, so what did it matter, really?  
  
He spread his towel out on the deck alongside Matt, joining him in basking in the sun, both to heat himself up from the cool water and to work on his tan. He snagged his aviator-style sunglasses from nearby and stretched himself out face up, propping his hands behind his head to act as a pillow.  
  
Closing his eyes, he lay like this for a few minutes in silence, the warmth of the rays hitting the long stretches of his bare skin, permeating his body pleasantly. He listened to the sound of his own breathing and the soft slap of the gentle waves against the side of the boat, slowly becoming drowsy from the steady rhythm. He was so relaxed he knew he could just doze off, but would likely get a verbal hiding from Matt for being boring and antisocial if he did.  
  
At that point, he noted that Matt had been quiet for some time, which was fairly unusual for him when he was hanging out with friends and not working on anything musical. Normally, he couldn’t shut him up; choosing to voice any and every stray and obscure thought that came into his head.  
  
Dom turned his head slightly to look over and see what Matt was doing, in case he was up to mischief of some kind.  
  
Matt was still propped up on his elbows with his head towards Dom, his face angled down at him. Even though he had his sunglasses on, Dom could tell from his posture and the way his head tilted a little, that he was staring at him, surveying his form. Matt had a strange expression on his face that Dom didn’t recognise, and he felt oddly self-conscious all of a sudden, skin prickling under Matt’s gaze.  
  
Raising his eyebrows and trying to keep his tone light, he attempted to disrupt whatever analysis Matt was making of him.  
  
“What?”  
  
Matt started a little, breaking from his apparent reverie, and shifted his focus to Dom’s face.  
  
“What?” he replied, a slightly vague tone to his voice.  
  
“I don’t know. You were staring at me.”  
  
“No I wasn’t.”  
  
“Yes you were.”  
  
“ _No_. I _wasn’t_.”  
  
“ _Yes_. You _were_.”  
  
Matt fell silent, and Dom frowned in confusion. It wasn’t like Bellamy to give up an argument that easily; something must be wrong. Feeling slightly guilty for laying into Matt earlier about his physical appearance when he was emotionally vulnerable, Dom shifted up onto his elbows to become level with Matt’s face. His slid his sunglasses up onto his head and threw him a sympathetic gaze.  
  
“Hey, sorry, I don’t mean to be a wanker. You alright?” he asked gently.  
  
Matt gave him a small smile and nodded, shrugging.  
  
“Shit going on in my head, you know,” he explained, gesturing dismissively with one hand. “Just thinking about everything and everyone. And me.”  
  
Dom nodded, but didn’t probe further. Matt had told him plenty over the last week or so; about his problems with Gaia, with himself and with his emotions. He was still no closer to solving any of them, so Dom knew there was no use inducing Matt to talk when it would only distress him even more.  
  
Dom decided to take a different tack instead, and talk about himself. Except for that first day with Matt, he’d hardly discussed Jess at all.  
  
“Do you think you can fall out of love with someone, even though you’re still with them?”  
  
He watched Matt’s posture stiffen and a nervous expression washed over his face. The tendons in his neck tensed and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.  
  
“You think that’s what happening to me and Gaia?” Matt asked, his voice tight.  
  
Dom sat up, startled, shaking his head, suddenly realising how his blurted question sounded in context.  
  
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. Sorry. I was talking about me,” he explained.  
  
Matt seemed to relax a little, and he cocked his head in thought.  
  
“Oh. So, it’s happening to you and Jess then?”  
  
Dom shrugged and sighed. He ran a hand over his face, fingertips rubbing at one eye.  
  
“I don’t know. Maybe.”  
  
Matt was quiet for a few moments, and Dom leaned forward to rest his arms on his propped up knees. He turned his head sideways to look at Matt again.  
  
“You don’t love her anymore?” Matt asked, his question frank, but tone gentle.  
  
Dom knew Matt didn’t mean it in a brutal way, but hearing it said out loud was still bracing for him. He shook his head.  
  
“No, I do. I care about her, I love her,” he explained slowly. “But I think that the passion is gone, you know? Love, but... maybe not _in love_.”  
  
Dom swallowed, the feel of the words rolling off his tongue leaving a bittersweet sensation in his mouth. It was almost cliché to say that about a relationship, and something that he’d never found himself to be before was cliché. All his relationships with women had been unconventional, even before the true heights of the band had hit; he’d preferred different and difficult associations, because safe and normal was boring. So for his relationship with Jess to turn into another mundane story of two people drifting apart unintentionally, was almost laughable. Almost.  
  
“Mmmm.”  
  
Matt’s reply wasn’t exactly the constructive response Dom had been hoping for. He was usually pretty good at these critical, emotional discussions because he expressed his opinions honestly and clearly. There was no pissing about with veiled answers, or sugar-coated coddling to spare feelings. Not usually, anyway. Matt’s out of character behaviour was seriously starting to worry Dom, and made him think that perhaps Matt wasn’t just worrying over nothing, when he said he’d changed. Dom wasn’t sure how he could take his best friend shifting in personality this way, especially not right now.  
  
“Well, you know how I feel about love anyway,” Matt continued, scratching idly at his ear and stretching his toes out in the sun. “Most of it’s bollocks, if you ask me.”  
  
Ah, there it was; good old, brutally honest, boundary-resisting Bellamy. Dom smiled a little, his tension subsiding. He cocked an eyebrow.  
  
“Thought you said you love Gaia though,” Dom reminded him.  
  
Due to Matt’s inclination to spill forth whatever was on his mind, it wasn’t entirely unknown for him to talk complete and utter shit, and claim to hold strong beliefs about particular topics. But what he said and what his behaviour revealed could be two entirely different things, and the subject of love was one of those. It provided Dom with hours of entertainment to see Matt espouse his disbelief in conventional love, yet fly home to his entirely traditional fiancée in Italy.  
  
“I do. Doesn’t mean it has to be this fucking neat little box of feelings of being ‘in love’ or out of it,” Matt explained. “There’s a lot of grey area. Different spectrums of love, different types. It’s ridiculous to make boundaries where there aren’t any.”  
  
Dom’s smile stretched into an amused grin.  
  
“I don’t think lusting after young groupies counts as love, mate,” he teased gently.  
  
Matt grinned wryly and shrugged.  
  
“But that’s what I mean, though. We all have a whole range of wants, needs, emotions, desires; it’s stupid to attempt to shove all of them in one particular category and not expect there to be crossover,” Matt went on. “I love Gaia and love spending my time with her, but I’m not about to say I’ll only ever love her and it will never change, and we’ll be together forever, because that would be a lie. People are too complicated for relationships to be that simple.”  
  
“So you don’t think you’re ‘in love’ with her?”  
  
Matt tipped his head to one side, pondering.  
  
“I don’t really think there’s any such thing.”  
  
Dom rolled his eyes, sighing at Matt’s non-committal answers.  
  
“You don’t think there’s a difference between what you feel for Gaia, and say, your best friends?” he countered.  
  
It was Matt’s turn to roll his eyes.  
  
“Of course there is. I don’t shag my best friends for a start.”  
  
Dom snorted.  
  
“But other than that, there are different things I share with her that I don’t share with anyone else; certain levels of trust and understanding, as well as mundane domestic affairs, because I live with her,” he explained.  
  
Dom’s sniggering continued, and he pressed the tip of his tongue to his teeth on one side, grinning.  
  
“Well, I have to put up with your domestic shit most of the year; practically living with you on tour. All those smelly socks, morning breath and right moods you get in when you’ve just woken up,” he teased.  
  
Matt made a huffing noise and flipped him two fingers.  
  
“I thought we were talking about love here, not taking the piss out of me again,” he complained.  
  
Dom smothered his grin and attempted to get himself back on track.  
  
“Right. Sorry,” he apologised. “Well, all that trust and domestic stuff... you don’t count that as love?”  
  
“Yeah, I count it as love. Just not ‘in love’. Like I said, I think that concept is a myth. I don’t believe in ‘falling’, like it’s something accidental, or quick,” Matt explained. “Or love at first sight bollocks. Love is a gradual process. You get to know someone and grow close.”  
  
Dom was silent for a moment, letting the thoughts sink in. He vaguely knew before that Matt was of this opinion, in terms of relationships, but they hadn’t spoken of it, in detail at least, for a long time. It felt a little strange that he was forgetting how left-field Matt’s ideas on life were sometimes.  
  
“But surely there’s more to it than that,” Dom said finally. “I mean, when you first met Gaia, you felt _something_ ; some spark?”  
  
Matt nodded, rubbing at his nose and sniffing.  
  
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But that was attraction. We’re all just animals, after all.”  
  
Dom sighed.  
  
“Oh God, not this again. You read too many of Gaia’s psych books,” he groaned.  
  
“Deny it all you like mate, but underneath it all, most of what we do is controlled by our primal instincts. Sex and survival is the name of the game,” Matt lectured.  
  
Dom pointed a finger at him, smirking.  
  
“Ah, but you still believe in love.”  
  
“As an intricately evolved method of attachment,” Matt argued. “To capture and keep good genes.”  
  
Dom sighed in frustration.  
  
“Then how do you explain love being blind? People fall in love with others who are _clearly_ no good for them.”  
  
“The advantage might not be obvious at first. The person probably doesn’t even know it themselves why they see it as a good pairing. But it’s usually primal things like physical build and the ability to provide food and shelter, despite the fact that the person might be a complete fuckwit.”  
  
“Well, if that were true, you and me would have been fucked ages ago... or not, as it were,” Dom clarified. “Chris would be the one fighting off all the women, not us.”  
  
“You’ve got to think laterally. At first glance, we look piss weak and seemingly genetically deficient in terms of survival – ”  
  
“Speak for yourself,” Dom said indignantly.  
  
“I mean, compared to someone like Chris, say,” Matt explained, beginning to launch into one of his famous rants. “But because of the way humans evolved, our ability to provide for a family is not now solely dependent on how physically strong we are; money and assets can trump it easily in our society. Part of the reason we have women going mad for us; we’re successful and could theoretically provide well.”  
  
“Oh. But I thought you said we’re all just simple animals. Sounds fucking complicated to me.”  
  
“I said we’re animals, and act on instinct. But animals can have complex instincts and motivations too. We, as humans, like to think we’ve got highly-evolved, civilised reasons for our actions, and that our emotions are what make us different,” Matt continued. “But that’s bullshit. We only know about each others’ emotions because we can communicate it to one another. Animals might have the same emotions but how the fuck would we know, if we can’t really talk to them?”  
  
Dom shook his head, trying to process the philosophical babbling of Matthew Bellamy on another of his abstract rants. It was too early in the day for this, not to mention the fact that they were on holiday. He decided to steer the conversation back to his original point.  
  
“Okay, so just forget the idea of being ‘in love’ for now,” Dom conceded. “Where do I draw the line then? Whether or not to keep going with my relationship?”  
  
Matt was quiet for a few moments, his fingers drumming idly on his pale stomach in thought. He cocked his head before speaking, eyes still hidden by sunglasses.  
  
“I think it depends what you’re getting out of it, and what you want to get out of it,” he replied. “If it’s worth all this bollocks.”  
  
Dom sighed, looking over at Matt in exasperation.  
  
“Well, you _would_ say that,” he said dryly.  
  
He saw Matt frown, and knew there was slight offense flashing in those eyes under the glasses.  
  
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked.  
  
“Keep your knickers on. I just meant that you tend to do what feel right according to your feelings at the time, consequences be damned,” Dom clarified. “Not that there’s necessarily anything wrong with that, it just makes it hard to think longer term.”  
  
Matt sat up, turning to face him, his expression serious.  
  
“Just because I don’t pander to traditional ideas of love, exclusive partnership, marriage and all that other shit, doesn’t mean I’m not committed or know how to make long-term plans,” Matt explained, a slight indignation in his tone.  
  
“I know, I know,” Dom said quickly. “I respect your open-mindedness on that sort of thing, I do. I just meant I don’t think I work the same way. I’m an all-or-nothing kind of guy.”  
  
Matt grinned devilishly at this.  
  
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been there on a few occasions when you’ve gone for the ‘all’,” he giggled. “Some of the things you were willing to do, certainly put me to shame.”  
  
Dom felt his ears flush and he shoved Matt in the arm, rolling his eyes and fighting back a grin.  
  
“That’s not what I fucking meant, you pervert,” he chided. “I meant in terms of relationships, not just sex. Either an exclusive, complete, committed one, or not at all. Not an open one, or this limbo shit I’m in at the moment.”  
  
Matt shrugged.  
  
“I don’t know what your problem with an open relationship is,” Matt said. “It’s easier than you think.”  
  
“Well, you’ve found a beautiful woman who’s willing to do that, so that’s a useful start,” Dom replied. “But even if I had that, I... I couldn’t do it.”  
  
Matt quirked an eyebrow.  
  
“Couldn’t have a girlfriend and sleep with other women? That doesn’t sound like you at all...”  
  
Dom shot a half-hearted scowl in response to the impish grin Matt was giving him.  
  
“No, of course I could, you know that,” he replied dryly. “I couldn’t... have it the other way around.”  
  
He shifted uncomfortably, Matt nodding and chuckling knowingly.  
  
“Ah, too much ego. Thought you’d have banished that by now, after all the shit we’ve got up to over the years. You used to be good at sharing, from memory,” Matt sniggered.  
  
Dom shrugged, sheepish.  
  
“Stupid male instinct, I guess,” he admitted. “Sometimes I don’t know how you do it; knowing that Gaia can go around sleeping with other men.”  
  
Matt shifted, drawing his gaze to the side, watching the light shimmer off the water at the back of the boat. Dom wondered briefly if it was a good idea to probe this topic with Matt, because he’d never done so before. Despite their past, and on-going competitions in the bedroom, he’d never asked specifics about how the relationship actually worked on a technical and emotional level. He knew better than to try to weasel personal information from Matt that he didn’t volunteer. But since they were exploring their relationship upheavals together now, Dom thought perhaps it was time to find out.  
  
“We always tell one another before we pull someone solo,” Matt explained, his voice quieter. “Otherwise we tend to try and... erm, share.”  
  
Matt didn’t look back at Dom, his expression unreadable and eyes still hidden behind his glasses. Dom sat in stunned silence as the words, and implication, sank in. Matt had never made a secret of his threesome encounters with Gaia and other women, but Dom had not once thought that it may have swung in the other direction.  
  
“You and Gaia share _men_?”  
  
Dom knew there was an incredulous tone to his voice, though it wasn’t intended to sound accusatory. He was simply in shock that his best friend slept with other men.  
  
He shouldn’t be surprised, he knew he shouldn’t. This was Matt they were talking about, after all. Considering their lives and their history, he shouldn’t be stunned by the revelation. But, with everything they’d done that was a little bit _out there_ , Dom had always chalked it up to experimentation; try it once to see what it was like. He never actually expected Matt to integrate that sort of thing into his love life.  
  
Besides, he couldn’t actually believe Matt would go through with shagging a bloke. Or let himself be shagged by one. The thought made Dom’s eyes widen, and he shook his head to clear the image.  
  
“Steady on, that’s private,” Matt said quietly. “Don’t really want to talk about that with you.”  
  
Dom couldn’t suppress his snort, watching Matt fidget.  
  
“There’s an aspect of your sex life you _don’t_ want to share with me?” Dom chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day.”  
  
Matt swallowed uncomfortably, turning back to Dom, but with his eyes to the floor.  
  
“This is different,” Matt stated, his tone blank.  
  
“I’ll say,” Dom agreed, fighting a smile.  
  
“Stop it,” Matt said sharply.  
  
He was often quite curt and brief if he was forced into a subject he didn’t want to talk about. Dom acknowledged the warning signs now and backed off a little.  
  
“Okay, sorry, I won’t ask,” he apologised, tone gentler and smile gone.  
  
Watching Matt for a few moments, pondering, he bit his lip.  
  
“Well, while we’re on the topic, you should know I’m not exactly a saint,” he said hesitantly.  
  
Matt lifted his face at this, pausing in his nervous restlessness. Dom swallowed thickly, hardly believing he was about to admit this.  
  
“I haven’t shagged any men but, erm... let’s just say I didn’t turn down offers presented to me by male fans on occasion,” he confessed, his cheeks heating.  
  
He knew Matt was watching him intently, even though he couldn’t see his eyes.  
  
“What offers?” Matt inquired, an arch in his eyebrow.  
  
Dom licked his lips, his fingers playing nervously with the ends of his damp hair.  
  
“Head.”  
  
Matt was deathly quiet, and Dom’s heart hammered in his chest in terror. The silence was killing him. He dreaded to think what was going through Matt’s mind right then; what he thought of Dom doing those things.  
  
Dom was entirely baffled when a devious grin stretched itself across Matt’s face.  
  
“You _slapper_.”  
  
This was swiftly followed by a mischievous giggle that made Dom’s neck flush. He couldn’t find his voice to protest the insult.  
  
“When the fuck was this? And how the hell did I not know about it?” Matt asked.  
  
Composing himself, Dom ran a hand through his hair.  
  
“It was years ago, during the Origin tour, when we were up for anything,” he admitted. “And despite what you may believe, you don’t know _everything_ about me. Besides, nobody knows about it. I was discreet.”  
  
Matt laughed.  
  
“I didn’t think ‘subtle’ was in your vocabulary, but apparently I was wrong,” Matt grinned. “What else are you hiding from me? You sneaky little deviant.”  
  
Dom rubbed a hand over his face, attempting to hide his embarrassment.  
  
“It wasn’t planned or anything, fuck,” he grumbled. “I was young, dumb and horny, and they were just... there.”  
  
Matt threw his hands up, shrugging.  
  
“Hey, fuck, I don’t blame you; getting blown is great, no matter who’s on the other end of it,” he agreed bluntly.“Just didn’t think you were... _into that_.”  
  
Dom frowned, the implication in Matt’s voice not going unnoticed.  
  
“I wasn’t. I’m not. It was convenience and for the thrill of it, that’s all,” he replied. “And I only told you so would stop being antsy about me knowing you sleep with men.”  
  
Matt stopped, the smug grin wiped from his face instantly.  
  
“I didn’t say I slept with men,” he said irritably.  
  
Dom shrugged.  
  
“Whatever. It doesn’t bother me who you sleep with, you know. That was the point I was trying to make,” he said. “I’m letting you know I’m open-minded too, and I won’t judge you. I’m your best friend, you can tell me anything.”  
  
Matt’s posture relaxed a little, and Dom poked him playfully with his foot.  
  
“Some things I don’t want to share,” Matt said after a long pause. “They’re too personal, even for us.”  
  
Dom nodded and reached over to squeeze Matt’s arm casually, reassuringly.  
  
“Well, I’m here if you need to talk, that’s all I’m saying,” he explained. “But I do get what you mean. We’ve all got to keep some secrets, right?”  
  
He grinned and was relieved when Matt smiled back slightly, despite his still-reserved demeanour.  
  
Dom lay back down on his towel, stretching himself out and wiggling his toes. He slid his sunnies back over his eyes, and then placed his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers together. Taking a deep breath of the sharp sea air, he allowed his eyelids to flutter shut again, the bright sun still creating an orange glow on the back of them.  
  
“Though I think now I don’t have any left, with you at least,” Dom said with a smile.  
  
He heard Matt shift beside him and assumed he’d also resumed his reclined position of sun-soaking.  
  
“Well, don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” Matt replied. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”  
  
Dom snorted a laugh, his chest shaking with amusement.  
  
“You? Piss off, I don’t think so.”  
  
“I am!” Matt protested, his tone indignant.  
  
“This coming from the man who informed the entire world he had wanking fantasies as a teenager, about _Grace Jones_.”  
  
Matt let out a sigh.  
  
“Well, not my _own_ , obviously.”  
  
Dom sniggered again, shifting his hips around on his towel.  
  
“And not mine either! You told several reporters how you’d captured the ‘money shot’ of me on camera when I was having sex with a groupie,” he reminded Matt. “In graphic detail.”  
  
“I keep secrets if someone asks me to,” Matt explained. “You never asked me to not tell anyone about that.”  
  
“I didn’t think I had to! Bloody hell,” Dom laughed. “Well, I know better now.”  
  
He heard fidgeting on the deck beside him again, and opened his eyes to see Matt rolled over to face him, his expression growing serious again.  
  
“Are you really still pissed off at me for that?” he asked. “I was just being a controversial twat back then, you know that.”  
  
Dom smiled, unlacing his fingers and waving his hand dismissively.  
  
“No, I know, of course not, I don’t care,” he said. “If I don’t want everyone finding out personal things about me, I shouldn’t make a git of myself in the first place. Especially around you.”  
  
Matt grinned.  
  
“But I’d still prefer if you kept to yourself what I told you... about those fan-boys,” Dom said earnestly. “No doubt they themselves spread it around amongst the fans, but I want it to stay as rumour, not fact.”  
  
“So, what you mean is, you don’t want Tom or Chris to know,” Matt said bluntly.  
  
Dom sighed and brushed his unruly hair off the lenses of his sunglasses.  
  
“Yeah, that’s true,” he admitted. “I don’t know how they’d take it, you know? With you, it wasn’t so much of a worry, but those guys...”  
  
He shrugged and replaced his hands behind his head.  
  
“You think they’re _that_ intolerant?” Matt asked.  
  
Dom shook his head.  
  
“Nah, I don’t think they’ll hate me or anything like that,” he explained. “I just... they don’t think the same way we do. I’m not sure they’d ever understand it, and it might make things a bit weird.”  
  
“You didn’t think _I’d_ get weird about it?” Matt asked, surprise evident in his voice.  
  
“At first, maybe,” Dom agreed. “But you’d get over it. Because I know what you’re like.”  
  
Matt raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips.  
  
“And what am I like?”  
  
“Perverted. Dirty. Kinky. Would you like some more adjectives?” Dom grinned.  
  
“Oi, steady on,” he protested.  
  
Dom chuckled, shrugging.  
  
“You know it’s true.”  
  
“Cheeky bastard,” Matt said, fighting back a toothy grin.  
  
He lay back down in his original position, taking up his book from beside him again and flipping it open.  
  
They lay in silence for a few minutes, the heat from the sun making Dom drowsy, along with the gentle rocking of the boat on the water. The soft back and forth rhythm made his mind blurry around the edges, and he felt the muscles in his legs and back slacken. He let his shoulders drop back down onto the towel beneath him and exhaled a long breath, ending in a contented sigh.  
  
Matt murmured something, and it took all of Dom’s concentration to bring his head back from the tranquil place it had drifted to. He opened his eyes a crack and turned his face slightly to one side.  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“I said, you wanna come round my place for dinner tonight?” Matt asked. “Bring over some of your food and I’ll cook us up some proper Italian.”  
  
Dom chuckled softly.  
  
“God, I should take the piss out of you more often, if I get rewarded with dinner,” he said.  
  
“Or maybe you should be worried it’s a secret plot to get revenge,” Matt replied. “I could put laxatives or arsenic in your food.”  
  
“I think I should be more worried it’d be a sedative, to make me easy prey,” Dom teased. “Since I know you like that sort of thing now.”  
  
Matt glared at him.  
  
“Oh, shove it up your arse,” he grumbled.  
  
“That’s what _he_ said!” Dom cackled, unable to resist.  
  
Matt just shook his head and went back to reading his book again.


	4. Chapter 4

The days went by faster than Dom would have imagined, given the circumstances. Maybe because of the studio he’d found, or simply because of the company he was in now. Probably both. It wasn’t all that different to the life he’d been leading for the many months previous; just playing music and hanging out with mates, albeit his circle of friends was now restricted to one person. Not that he minded. Not at all. Matt had been his best friend for so many years now, he almost didn’t notice his presence a lot of the time. He was just _there_.  
  
So it was comforting, familiar, to have him there now, and made the time fly by. How long had it been now since he’d heard from Jess? A couple of weeks at least. But he barely noticed it. That said, Dom found that he and Matt weren’t exactly getting a lot done on the new material front, despite the amount of time they spent in the studio.  
  
Most days they just messed about, playing old riffs and rhythms, with the occasional new one here and there. But even the new stuff was ideas they’d had before, just not yet used. Dom recognised several chords and melodies that Matt tinkered with, sometimes adding a backbeat or messing around clumsily on the guitar himself. Nothing solid had seemed to materialise however, especially when they didn’t start until the afternoon, and alcohol was added into the mix.  
  
A beer or two during composition and recording was not unusual for them as a band, but some days, with just the two of them, it stretched out to several more and also included spirits or a bottle of red. On those occasions, things usually went downhill on the creativity front. They often ended up passing a bottle back and forth across the piano and over Dom’s kit, or Matt would strum his guitar sloppily as he straddled the kick drum, eyelids heavy. Dom would lose his coordination, resulting in careless, heavy drum beats, with Matt lying dazed on the carpet next to him, giggling and creating noisy, endless feedback loops.  
  
Not exactly the constructive sessions they’d been hoping for. And afterwards, they’d stumble out the studio with nothing to show for it except an almost empty bottle of vodka that was polished off as they staggered down the street to the beach in the dark.  
  
Dom tried to be disciplined, he really did. But with Matt lacking any solid direction for their next sound or concept, Dom found that his own usual anal retentiveness and drive for perfection were absent. The truth was, he couldn’t jam properly or attempt to gather the beginnings of a new song together without Chris there, he knew that. Musically, Chris was his anchor and what he did during the composition of new songs depended heavily on what Chris was doing. But Dom didn’t want to say so explicitly to Matt, for fear he would get tetchy about it. Honestly, sometimes Matt seemed to have a serious case of the green-eyed monster when Dom spoke about his and Chris’s musical reliance on one another, though Dom didn’t have the faintest clue why. He acted as though he was being excluded from some secret, important club, and that Dom and Chris were being unfair to him.  
  
Yet Matt always gave the impression that he liked to work alone, at least in the initial stages, so Dom didn’t know what all the fuss was about. He would go off and do his own thing, immerse himself in those darker emotions he liked to express through his music, while Dom and Chris plugged away at the core layers. It was a productive approach, but Matt still behaved as though he were missing out on something. The mysteries of the Bellamy enigma never ended.  
  
Dom figured Matt would have plenty of inspiration for subject matter here, given the state of affairs with Gaia, so it was strange that he didn’t feel the need to be alone and compose. Granted, their surroundings didn’t exactly help; constantly balmy, beautiful weather and endless stretches of beach were not compatible with working on angst-ridden rock music indoors. All Dom wanted to do was lie on the sand and scuba dive, both of which he did almost every day with Matt in tow.  
  
Though, he was yet to convince Matt to dive with him regularly. The couple of times they’d gone out in the past week, Matt had lingered near the surface and thrown in the towel at the first chance, despite conditions being clear and the water wonderfully warm. Dom had a sneaking suspicion that something about scuba diving spooked Matt a little.  
  
It wasn’t the sea fauna, because Matt was perfectly happy to snorkel the shallow reefs for extended periods, and would launch seaweed and small jellyfish at Dom’s head when he surfaced. No, it was more likely the larger depth of the water that made Matt anxious. Dom himself sometimes felt that unsettling sensation caused by the press of the ocean above and the endlessness of the dark below; it made one feel slightly dizzy and helpless. He was sure there was a name for it, the fear of deep water, but couldn’t think of it.  
  
He wasn’t game enough to suggest to Matt that he was afraid to go scuba diving; Dom wanted to keep his bollocks, thank you very much. So he just allowed Matt to make excuses to get out of it, and more often proposed snorkelling instead.  
  
So, days were taken up enjoying the island itself, with musical creativity taking a back seat. It wasn’t productive for them as a band, but Dom found it pleasant. It dulled his worries and concerns about back home, and settled him into a vague routine of cooking, sleeping, diving and lounging outdoors, and drumming and listening to Matt play indoors.  
  
On one of their studio nights, they ended up staying later than usual. Dom had once again used all his powers of flirtation and charm to sweet-talk the staff into letting he and Matt stay past the official closing time, as well as leaving a generous cash deposit to borrow the keys to lock up. Smirking, Matt said he believed the only reason they were allowed there after hours was because the manager fancied Dom.  
  
“You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed it,” Matt stated, setting his guitar down.  
  
He raked a hand through shaggy locks, rendering them even more askew.  
  
“There’s nothing to notice,” Dom insisted. “Jacque is just friendly.”  
  
Matt snorted.  
  
“And a poof.”  
  
Dom rolled his eyes.  
  
“Oh, very PC, Matt,” he said sarcastically. “And even if he is, it doesn’t mean he automatically fancies all men.”  
  
“No, just _you_ ,” Matt grinned. “Because you flirt with him.”  
  
Dom shrugged.  
  
“You say I flirt with everyone,” he said nonchalantly. “And it got us what we wanted, didn’t it?”  
  
Matt giggled to himself, shaking his head as he made his way over to the piano.  
  
“Offering yourself to get what you want; you know what that’s called, yeah?” he murmured, a wicked grin across his lips.  
  
Dom paused his drumming to flip him a V. He watched as Matt slid his slim frame onto the cushioned seat and reached forward, tinkling the keys casually. The brunette launched into brief snippets of lively classical pieces to warm himself up while the drummer continued to beat out a loose, lazy rhythm on his kit.  
  
Dom had no clue as to anything Matt was playing; he didn’t know Berlioz from Bach or Brahms. After a couple of minutes, Matt changed to a softer, more fluid piece that Dom recognised. He’d heard bits and pieces of it over the last few years, Matt adding to and altering it as time went on, still not satisfied just yet. This one was his own composition; his ‘symphonic monster’ as he’d dubbed it the last time Dom had spoken to him about it. But Dom knew Matt meant that in the sense of the sheer size of his vision for it, not because it was particularly heavy or overdramatic. They had plenty of opportunity to show off their rock credentials in the bolder, guitar-centred music they made. This was something else entirely.  
  
Though Dom understood nothing of classical music, he knew what he liked, and he liked this. There was a softness and vulnerability in the lilting melody that Dom had never seen Matt display before in any other context, only when he played this. More than usual, Matt lost himself in the music, fingers stroking the keys with gentle passion and head swaying toward the piano, an almost sad expression washing across his features. Certain phrases hit Dom deep inside his chest, and he was gripped with the inability to do anything except listen and let the notes and melody take him. Tonight was one of those nights, and his idle drumming trailed off to leave him sitting quietly watching Matt create this vivid aural landscape.  
  
The piece reached a crescendo, making Dom lose his breath for a moment, before it dampened down to the same melancholic hush as earlier and faded out with light traces of Matt’s fingers. Matt sat still for a few moments, staring down at the keys as though in deep thought or some kind of daydream. There was a quiet sigh from between his parted lips and he blinked slowly with long, thick lashes.  
  
Dom stepped out from behind his drum kit, approaching the motionless figure with quiet reverence. Upon reaching Matt, he leaned his hip gently against the side of the piano, allowing one hand to rest atop it and the other to hook in the pocket of his jeans. Matt looked up at him, his eyes glossy and faraway, though a faint smile ghosted his lips. Dom felt his stomach clench looking at Matt in this state; the dilation of his pupils and eerily open expression on his face made him appear incredibly raw and vulnerable. It wasn’t often he saw Matt like this. It wasn’t often _anyone_ saw Matt like this.  
  
Dom himself had experienced it perhaps a handful of times over the years, usually when Matt had completely immersed himself in music that meant a great deal to him. But also, a long time ago when they were kids back in Devon, high on mushrooms; the first time Dom had seen it. _Felt_ it.  
  
 _“But what if they hate me?”  
  
Matt’s voice seemed far away, but Dom could still hear the panic rising in it. He lifted an arm to hold his hand up to the night sky, splaying his fingers to examine the silhouette against the flickering stars.  
  
“They won’t hate you. Don’t worry. They won’t hate you. Maybe me and Chris, but not you,” Dom replied. “You’ll fucking kill ’em, man, you always do.”  
  
Matt’s hand joined Dom’s and his long digits traced over the back curiously.  
  
“They might though. I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think I can,” Matt said. “I’m not – ”  
  
He cut himself off, his eyes dark and wide as he stared skywards, taking in the ink-black canvas littered with silver pinpricks. Slim, bony fingers laced through Dom’s, and he felt the shake in them as cool skin pressed against his own. Christ, Matt seemed so fragile. The thought spun round and round Dom’s trip-hazy mind as he processed the tingling sensations running along his nerves to his brain.  
  
He turned his head to look at the familiar, crooked profile of his best friend in the milky glow of the moon, the pale light making Matt appear strangely ethereal. The usual electric blue of his eyes had vanished, replaced by reflection of the ebony sky, rendering them as dark, bottomless pools.  
  
Dom curled his fingers down over Matt’s, the pale knuckles prominent and knobbly against his own. He rolled himself sideways slightly and turned their entwined hands so they rested atop the left side of Matt’s chest. Staring down into Matt’s face, he could feel the slow thump of a heavy heartbeat under his hand, the rhythm comforting and captivating. His eyes studied the shadows under Matt’s jaw and along his cheekbones, before tracking up to meet the wide, open pair belonging to his best friend.  
  
“You are,” Dom said.  
  
Matt’s fingers fidgeted, a thumb tracing back and forth along the side of Dom’s little finger, the rest of his hand squeezing Dom’s own. His narrow chest rose and fell slowly under their arms, and the heat of his body felt pleasantly warm against Dom in the cool Devon air. There were quick, anxious movements of his tongue across his bottom lip, and Dom reached up to run his fingertips over the lumpy protrusion of Matt’s Adam’s apple against his thin skin.  
  
“Sing for me,” Dom murmured.  
  
He turned his head to rest it next to their entangled fingers, ear pressed against Matt’s ribcage. He listened to Matt breathe in and out slowly once, then again, before the singer took a deep breath to prepare himself.  
  
Matt’s voice was soft, sweet in the quiet night air, and Dom closed his eyes, letting the sound wash over him. The melody was sad and slow, the words not entirely decipherable to his ears, only fragments filtering through for him to pick out. But it was the notes, the projection from Matt’s slim chest, and the vibration of his throat, that captured Dom completely. He felt the music, the emotion, radiating out from the slight figure beneath his head and hand, soaking into every one of his pores and permeating his body from head to toe. His heart swelled and ached at the wrenching of such beautiful noises from Matt’s throat, and he lifted his head a little to watch.  
  
Dom was always amazed by the passion and power that could come from such a small, scrawny young bloke. Even now, as he watched Matt’s mouth shape the words, it was hard to believe those lovely, delicate sounds of sorrow were of his creation. Dom’s eyes tracked over the closed lids and furrowed brow of Matt as he sang, the intensity he was obviously feeling reflected in his expression as well as his voice.  
  
The song tapered off, and Matt lay still with his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling more gently now as he calmed his breathing. He then opened his lids slowly, staring up at the night sky for a few seconds before meeting Dom’s gaze.  
  
Dom felt all the air disappear from his lungs. Suddenly, here, right now, in front of his eyes, was Matthew Bellamy. Completely and utterly exposed in that look, that expression, was everything about his best friend, his very soul laid bare.  
  
It was staggering and slightly frightening for Dom; his drug-laced adolescent mind not entirely prepared to cope with such things. He didn’t know what to do. He just stared, knowing he should look away and let Matt keep some part of himself hidden from view, but was too awestruck to move. He swallowed, his clasped hand squeezing tighter onto Matt’s fingers, and eyes never leaving the darkened blue ones in front of him.  
  
Matt reached his free hand up to push Dom’s hair behind his ear, fingers raking through the long, blonde locks. His touch was slow, careful, inquisitive, taking in the sensation of the smooth, silky strands beneath his fingertips.  
  
Dom felt a shiver pass across his scalp and down his spine as Matt slid his nails gently over the roots of his hair, his thumb drawing a slow circle around the shell of his ear. And still those eyes held Dom, wide and bottomless, like apertures shuttered open for him to see through to the unbroken image of his best friend; all the pieces of Matt’s heart and mind on display. But Dom wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to see, not right now. It was too much.  
  
He swallowed hard again, the stick of something distinctly uncomfortable lingering in his throat. He wondered whether it was wrong to see Matt so raw like this, all defences of sharp words and buffering humour stripped away. Dom felt his heart pounding slow in his ears, his breaths nervous and shallow as he continued to stare. He needed to look away, the intensity was nearly overwhelming, but he didn’t know how to stop.  
  
“You think I am?”  
  
The voice cut through the thick fog of Dom’s mind. Matt gave a slow, owlish blink and suddenly all that had been in his gaze was gone, the connection severed. The doorway closed and Matt’s eyes were back to the blank, glazed appearance they’d had most of the night, giving away almost nothing. Dom found himself exhaling a heavy breath and his gaze wandered idly away from Matt’s eyes, back over his face.  
  
“You are,” Dom repeated. “You are... enough. More than. We’ll do this. I know it.”  
  
He grinned now, shifting back off Matt to lie beside him. Matt fidgeted, making a sniffling sound, and Dom flicked a glance sideways to see a matching smile on the diminutive brunette.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Dom loosened his grip on Matt’s hand, allowing their arms to drop down and rest between them in the cool, damp grass. His eyelids fluttered as a slight wind blew across the hillside, raising goosebumps over the skin of his arms.  
  
“Where’s Chris and Tom?” he asked.  
  
“Fuck knows,” Matt replied after a few moments. “Chris pissed off somewhere with Kelly. I think Tom said something about beer.”  
  
Dom nodded. He was glad of it. He could stand staying here like this a while longer.  
_  
The memory was one that had stayed with Dom. So many years had passed since that night, but he remembered it like it was yesterday, the images and words etched clearly in his mind. But more than that, Dom remembered the emotion, welling up inside him, as he looked into Matt’s eyes that night. It had taken him by surprise, startling and vivid in that teenage body of his, because he’d never experienced a connection like that with another person before. Or since, if he was going to be honest.  
  
Dom pressed his eyelids closed for a moment to shake himself from the nostalgic reverie, and to escape Matt’s gaze. Even now, it was only so long he could bear that bright stare of Matt’s heart and mind. And he needed to tread carefully; with Matt being as open as he was right now, there should be no rushed or thoughtless words. When he opened his lids again, Matt’s eyes were back down on the piano keys.  
  
“I like that one,” Dom told him, his voice soft.  
  
Matt looked up, eyes seeming to focus a little, and he ran a hand through his hair.  
  
“Yeah?” he asked, smiling crookedly.  
  
Dom threw him a wry grin; Matt already knew that. Dom had mentioned his fondness for that piece several times over the years.  
  
“Yeah, of course,” he confirmed. “It’s really amazing. Should use it for the new album.”  
  
Matt ran a hand over his face, shrugging.  
  
“Don’t know that it’ll fit. Don’t think it’s ready,” he stated blankly.  
  
“You always say that, and it’s bollocks,” Dom argued. “You should put it out there. There’s no need to be scared.”  
  
Matt’s eyes flashed.  
  
“I’m not fucking scared,” he replied indignantly, tone snippish. “It doesn’t go with the rest of our music.”  
  
Dom slid a hand onto Matt’s stiff shoulder, squeezing it.  
  
“Okay, not scared. Apprehensive,” he conceded. “I just meant it’s too bloody excellent to stay unrecorded, you git.”  
  
He ruffled Matt’s hair, hoping the ego-stroking would calm him down. It seemed to have the desired effect, as Matt’s expression softened and he swatted Dom’s hand away from his hair half-heartedly.  
  
“I want it to sound bigger than this, which I can’t do on my own anyway,” Matt explained, continuing his previous train of thought. “Add strings and stuff, you know?”  
  
“Sounds great,” Dom beamed. “You can work on it properly, track down some orchestral musicians, when we get back to London or Italy.”  
  
Matt blanched at the mention of Italy, and Dom shifted in the uncomfortable silence that permeated the room.  
  
As if in response, Matt’s phone rang loudly in the studio, Rachmaninov filling the air. Matt stood up from the piano to answer it, fumbling in his pocket to yank it out and stare at the screen. From the look on Matt’s face, Dom didn’t need to ask who was calling.  
  
Matt let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them again, he pressed a button on his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. Dom raised his eyebrows.  
  
“I didn’t hang up on her,” Matt explained, responding to Dom’s unasked question. “Put it on silent to let it ring out. Not in the mood for a fight tonight.”  
  
Dom gave him a slight nod.  
  
He often saw how drained the verbal sparring made Matt, and given how close to the surface Matt’s emotions were during musical exploration, it would not end well if he did speak to Gaia tonight. Avoidance was sometimes understandable in these circumstances.  
  
“Let’s fuck off, I’ve had enough,” Matt said abruptly, closing the piano lid. “Listen to some music or something, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah sure,” Dom agreed. “Yours or mine?”  
  
He wandered back over to the kit and packed it up, swiping his sunglasses from a nearby table. He slipped them into the opening of his shirt, hanging them in place, and patted down his pockets to make sure he had everything else.  
  
“We can go back to mine if you don’t mind the ride,” Matt suggested. “There’s more to choose from on my iPod.”  
  
Flashing him a grin, Dom nodded. Matt too had invested in a bike when he’d found out about Dom’s, citing an ease of access to the music studio and each other’s villas. They were at a distance that was walkable but vaguely irritating if they wanted to pop back and forth quickly, so cycling everywhere together was the ideal solution.  
  
Secretly, Dom thought Matt could use the exercise anyway. When he was feeling particularly wicked, he’d point to Matt’s belly and ask how far along his ‘pasta baby’ was, resulting in an explosion of verbal abuse from the frontman. But Dom figured it was fair game, when Matt insisted on drawing attention to Dom’s “flamingly gay” dress sense; he gave as good as he got.  
  
Besides, Matt had never had body image issues in that sense, where Dom thought he might actually do some psychological damage with his teasing. If anything, Matt was probably glad to have that extra bit of weight on his body these days. In the past, he’d sometimes been frighteningly skinny, and though Dom would never speak the words to Matt himself, he too was happy to see him healthier.  
  
Dom watched as Matt flicked one last glance around the studio, making sure he hadn’t left anything behind, before making for the door. On his way across the room, Dom stepped over to shove the seat back under the piano and return the guitar to its stand, detaching the strap and placing it in the box beside it. When he turned around, Matt was giving him a pointed look from the doorway, smirk firmly in place.  
  
“Come on, Mrs Howard,” he teased. “Enough of that, let’s go.”  
  
Dom returned the smirk, rolling his eyes and striding toward the door as Matt flicked the lights off.  
  


***  
  
Dom shouldn’t have had so much to drink on Saturday night. He knew that. He’d remembered thinking it vaguely at the time, his head starting to swim with alcohol but still coherent. He knew he should’ve stopped but he didn’t. Matt had been hitting it hard, so he’d gone along with it. And now he was paying for the over-indulgence.  
  
The drinking stint was a few days earlier, but the muscles all along his left shoulder and up the side of his neck were still giving him grief. He’d positioned himself at an awkward angle as he’d leant against Matt’s shoulder to watch him mess about on his iPod. He was so drunk that it didn’t hurt or ache at the time, and he’d nodded off every now and then into a fuzzy oblivion of unconsciousness, feeling nothing at all. The next day he could barely turn his head to the left without inducing a splitting headache, and he didn’t dare try to lift his left arm anywhere higher than his shoulder.  
  
Dom had called reception that first afternoon to request massage services, only to howl and whimper with pain, then send the woman away after only ten minutes. She’d encouraged him to let her stay, that he’d paid for the half hour anyway, but he’d just buried his face in the pillow, shaking his head. She returned the next day upon request, and Dom had seen her trying to hide a smile when she arrived. He’d clenched his jaw and dug his fingers into the massage table, eyes squeezed shut, as her fingers started on his shoulder and neck again. After a while he got used to the pain, and managed to endure a full hour.  
  
Today, she was back again, and had clearly noticed that he was not as sore as he’d been that first day. She didn’t hold back as much, digging the heel of her hand into a knot at his neck and then pressing two fingers hard down the length of muscle on his left shoulder.  
  
“ _Fuck!_ ”  
  
The curse had left Dom’s lips involuntarily as he was hit with a white-hot flash of pain up the side of his neck and behind one eye. His breathing laboured for a few moments as he struggled to contain the agony rocketing through his body. The masseuse paused, waiting for him to tell her to stop. Dom swallowed hard and gripped the side of the table.  
  
“It’s alright, keep going,” he managed to say.  
  
After a few more minutes, the pain dulled to a minor ache and the muscles of his shoulder and neck relaxed. He let out an audible sigh and allowed his eyelids to flutter shut. The masseuse now swapped to the other side, pressing her fingers into the corresponding muscle on the right.  
  
“Need to be persistent, work through the first pain,” she said to him in slightly rough English. “Then it gets easier every time after.”  
  
Dom nodded, wiggling his left shoulder back and forth tentatively.  
  
“Yeah, it’s definitely better than that first day,” he replied.  
  
Her hands returned the centre of his back, and began a slower, deeper press with the heel of her hand between his shoulder blades. Dom allowed his shoulders to sink lower into the massage table, opening out the muscles across his back and elongating his spine. He groaned as her fingers put pressure on the bands of muscle either side of his vertebrae, not realising how tense he was there.  
  
“What’s your name?” he asked after letting out another heavy breath.  
  
“Michelle.”  
  
“Well, hello Michelle, I’m Dom,” he said. “Though you probably already know that.”  
  
She nodded, though he couldn’t see her.  
  
“Yes, your name is listed for me because of choosing guest services,” she replied. “But it has you as your full name, _Dominic_.”  
  
Dom smiled at the way she said his name. Because of her accent, it made it sound French and exotic.  
  
“Most people call me Dom,” he informed her. “But it sounds nice the way you say it, so you can use my full name if you want to.”  
  
He was aware of the way his tone had dropped and gathered a slightly suave edge to it as he spoke to her. Flirting was entirely second nature to him these days, and he turned his head, opening his eyes to gauge her reaction. Michelle’s cheeks had coloured just a little and Dom spotted a tiny smile curling at the corners of her mouth. _Bingo_.  
  
“I’m supposed to address guests by their last name,” she said slowly. “So I will have to call you Mr. Howard.”  
  
Dom bit his lip and turned his head back to press his cheek against the massage table again. He knew it wasn’t right that he liked the sound of that too. He thought he’d banished his penchant for role-play years ago in Japan, when they’d been allowed to indulge to the very extremes on tour there. Perhaps not. He figured it best not to voice that particular thought right now.  
  
He closed his eyes again and let Michelle continue her work in silence. After some time, Dom heard his phone buzz from its position on the coffee table on the other side of the room. It stopped after a moment, indicating he’d received a text message. He thought he’d turned it off, as he did each time the masseuse arrived, but at least it was on silent. Dom ignored it, bringing his concentration back to the fingers manipulating the muscle either side of his spine. He sighed, eyelids fluttering as endorphins suffused his body.  
  
A couple of minutes later, the rumble of his phone vibrating filled the air again. Another message. He could guess fairly accurately who it was. Michelle paused, but Dom made no indication of an intention to get up and check it. She continued, and the room was quiet again, only the sound of a warm, gentle breeze outside audible through the open back doors. Dom felt his body relax, muscles falling limp and yielding on his bones, the tension in his neck ebbing away to a distant memory. He listened to the sound of his own breathing; the rush of air through his nose, and then the sensation of his lungs expanding against the firmness of the massage table.  
  
He wondered why he’d never indulged in this sort of pampering before. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it, he’d just never really thought about it. He’d had massages before, of course, not to mention those that extended beyond innocent, therapeutic touching, but never with any kind of regularity. And that was something that suddenly seemed like a good idea for when they were touring, to take the edge off. Dom made a mental note to make that happen during their next bout of shows. Whenever that would be.  
  
He was just settling himself into another stream of lazy, idle thoughts when his phone began buzzing again. This time it didn’t stop. He let out an exasperated sigh.  
  
“For fuck’s...”  
  
Michelle stopped and Dom turned his head to look up at her apologetically.  
  
“Sorry, I’m just going to turn that off,” he explained. “I’ll be right back.”  
  
She gave him an amused smile and stepped away from the table. Grabbing the sides of the towel that was draped over him for cover, Dom clambered off the bench and trotted over to the coffee table. Picking up the phone, he wasn’t at all surprised to see that it was Matt calling.  
  
“Persistent little bastard,” he muttered to himself.  
  
Dom ended the call and turned his phone off entirely, sliding it back across the coffee table. He turned back to the masseuse and made his way over to the table again, climbing up onto the padded surface.  
  
“Never spend your life with a neurotic, stubborn musical genius,” Dom said as he settled back down into his previous comfortable position. “He will slowly send _you_ insane.”  
  
Michelle laughed softly and resumed her work.  
  
About twenty minutes later, the masseuse had kneaded his entire back, leaving Dom’s muscles feeling like jelly and pleasantly fuzzy. She had just begun pressing her fingers against the muscles of his lower calves when there was a knock at the door. Dom sighed, frowning; it wasn’t hard to guess who that would be. He ignored it.  
  
After a minute or so of silence, the knocking returned, more impatiently this time. But still Dom didn’t move.  
  
“If we ignore him, he might go away,” Dom said with a bemused grin.  
  
Michelle chuckled again and continued to rub at his legs, a bit higher this time.  
  
“He is determined to see you, no?” she replied. “Important news, maybe.”  
  
Dom shook his head, laughing.  
  
“No, it won’t be. It never is,” he informed her. “He just likes to pester me.”  
  
She moved her hands to his left leg and began work on that thigh. He could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke to him.  
  
“Giving you attention, he’s showing his love,” she said matter-of-factly.  
  
Dom snorted.  
  
“Well he must love me a whole bloody lot, cos he’s an irritating little shite.”  
  
She laughed more loudly at this, and Dom grinned. The knocking still went on, almost continuous now. Matt’s voice then joined the din.  
  
“Let me in, I know you’re in there. Come on, Dom.”  
  
The sound was muffled by the barrier of the door, but his words were clearly audible. His tone took on a whining quality, and he rapped at the door, saying Dom’s name over and over. Dom heard Michelle trying to stifle a giggle, and he rolled his eyes at Matt’s behaviour.  
  
“Such a child,” he muttered, still smirking.  
  
The knocking changed to a slow thump and Dom could actually hear Matt sigh in exasperation.  
  
“If you’re in there having a wank, it can’t possibly take that long. Hurry up and blow your load already.”  
  
Dom felt a crimson flush of embarrassment rush up his throat and cheeks, his ears burning. Michelle stopped as he scrambled from the table, hastily trying to cover himself with the towel.  
  
“Bloody hell,” he cursed.  
  
He glanced back awkwardly at Michelle, motioning with his free hand.  
  
“Erm, that can be all for today,” he coughed. “I have to deal with this annoying twat I suppose.”  
  
She nodded and began packing up her things as Dom staggered to the door, towel clutched around his waist.  
  
“I know you can do it faster,” Matt continued from the other side. “I remember all those stolen minutes in the tour bus toilet. Nobody makes noises like that just doing their hair – ”  
  
Dom wrenched the door open, eyes wide and face still red.  
  
“Oh fucking hell Matt, do you ever shut up?!” he hissed.  
  
Matt grinned triumphantly, ignoring Dom’s utter embarrassment.  
  
“Ha, I knew you were in there,” he said smugly. “What took you so long? And what’s with the towel?”  
  
Dom glanced back at Michelle still placing items back into her bag and rubbed his face with his free hand.  
  
“I was kind of busy, actually,” he said in a low voice. “And you don’t have to share our personal business with the whole damn island.”  
  
Matt shrugged, smirk still firmly in place.  
  
“We’re miles away from anyone else’s villa,” he said. “No-one can hear... oh...”  
  
He trailed off, his smile dropping as he spotted Michelle making her way to the front door, avoiding eye contact with Dom. Matt watched her awkwardly as she approached, forcing a smile, and she murmured a quick goodbye to Dom.  
  
“I’ll, er, return the towel next time,” Dom called uncomfortably as she squeezed past.  
  
When she was gone, Matt turned back to Dom, expression sheepish.  
  
“Erm, sorry. I didn’t know,” he blurted out. “Thought you were just ignoring me to be a wanker.”  
  
Dom sighed, ushering Matt inside and closing the door behind him.  
  
“No, it was actually for a reason,” he chided. “Thanks for making an arse of me in front of Michelle. I’m sure she thinks we’re a right pair of perverts now.”  
  
Matt raised an eyebrow, a small smile returning to his lips.  
  
“ _Michelle_ , is it?” he said suggestively. “She’s alright, eh?”  
  
Dom’s expression softened, and he grinned at Matt’s implication.  
  
“She is.”  
  
“I guess I spoiled the ‘happy ending’ this time, then?” Matt giggled.  
  
Dom rolled his eyes.  
  
“It’s not that kind of massage, and you know it,” he informed him.  
  
Matt pouted slightly at Dom’s conservative reply. Dom’s eyes then twinkled and he tilted his head to one side.  
  
“Though it’d be hard to say no if she offered it,” he added, grinning wolfishly.  
  
“That’s not the only thing that’d be _hard_ ,” Matt sniggered.  
  
The two of them began snickering like a pair of naughty teenagers. When the laughter died down, Matt eyed Dom as they wandered into the kitchen.  
  
“I was thinking we should go for a ride out to Turquoise Bay this afternoon,” he piped up. “But you should probably put some pants on before we go. I don’t mind if you skinny dip, but your bollocks might not enjoy the bicycle seat very much.”  
  
Dom grinned, watching Matt as he perched himself on a stool at the breakfast bar.  
  
“Also, I don’t think the locals would appreciate seeing your bare arse riding across the island,” Matt snorted. “Nobody needs that.”  
  
Dom quirked an eyebrow, smiled bemusedly.  
  
“There’s nothing wrong with my arse,” he replied. “And at least I have one.”  
  
Dom’s smile grew wider as he turned to make his way toward the bedroom to change, Matt’s indignant scoffs and snorts echoing in the kitchen behind him.  
  
* * *  
  
Another week rolled around before Dom even noticed it, with Matt becoming almost a permanent fixture in his kitchen and lounge each afternoon.  
  
“Wanna watch something?” Matt asked, helping himself to the bottle of red wine that was nestled at the back of the small fridge. He’d left it at Dom’s the previous week, declaring he’d be back for it and besides, he had plenty more back at his villa. Dom didn’t doubt that.  
  
“On what, exactly? There’s no telly here, remember?”  
  
Matt gestured the bottle at Dom in offer, who shook his head. He rifled through the cupboard to pilfer a wine glass, then poured himself a generous amount.  
  
“iPod’s still got a screen, hasn’t it?” Matt replied dryly. “Image’ll be a bit small but we can plug your travel speakers in and get decent sound at least.”  
  
Dom shrugged and brushed past Matt to pull a small carafe of fruit juice from the fridge, emptying it into a glass.  
  
“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “What you in the mood for?”  
  
Matt took a few sips of his red wine and licked his lips, pondering.  
  
“ _Holy Grail_?” he suggested. “Don’t need high quality picture for that.”  
  
Dom grinned and nodded, grabbing a bag of nuts from the pantry on his way out of the kitchen.  
  
“Good thinking. Never get tired of Mr. Palin, eh?”  
  
Matt mirrored his wide smile and shook his head.  
  
“Sure don’t.”  
  
Dom threw the packet down on the coffee table and retreated to his bedroom to find his speakers. Fishing them from their wedged position down the side of his still half-unpacked suitcase, he yanked the cords free from a tangle of animal-print and fluoro belts, to bunch them together in his hands.  
  
On his return to the lounge, he found Matt settled comfortably on the couch, feet propped up on the table and iPod in hand in preparation. Dom plugged the speakers in, arranging them on the coffee table, before flopping down next to Matt on the cushions. He shuffled himself to gain an adequate viewing position; thigh, hip and shoulder aligned with Matt’s and tilting his head to peer down at the screen.  
  
Dom felt more than saw Matt’s head turn a little, eyes flicking briefly up and down his face. Matt squirmed next to him, Dom sensing it as an uncomfortable fidget, and quickly realised the very close proximity might not be welcomed. He shifted himself away a little, withdrawing contact almost entirely to leave a good couple of inches between the two of them. Instead, Dom leaned his shoulder over and craned his neck to be able to see.  
  
He didn’t know what he’d been thinking; it was an old habit he had with Matt to be that physically close and comfortable without even noticing. But things were different now, had been for a long time, and they didn’t really engage in that way anymore. Other than occasionally when they drank too much, but that was a given; people did all sorts of stupid things when intoxicated. Sober, Dom knew he couldn’t assume to be that way with Matt anymore. It had just been an unconscious slip, regression back into a memory of past times when they were young and indifferent to those kinds of boundaries.  
  
Satisfied that he was no longer causing discomfort to Matt, Dom grabbed the packet of peanuts from the table and settled himself for the start of the movie.  
  
After some time, there came a snort from beside him, and Dom turned his head to see Matt grinning impishly.  
  
“I always liked that as an insult,” Matt said thoughtfully.  
  
Dom quirked an eyebrow.  
  
“What?”  
  
“ _Your father smelt of elderberries_ ,” Matt replied.  
  
Dom sniggered, unsurprised that Matt would like such a strange, obscure insult.  
  
“It’s, er, interesting to say the least,” Dom remarked. “It might be more effective if it wasn’t so confusing.”  
  
Matt turned his head, quirking an eyebrow back.  
  
“Hey?”  
  
“Well, I have no idea what elderberries smell like for a start,” Dom explained. “Fuck, I could smell like them and wouldn’t even know it.”  
  
Matt leaned over, burying his face in the crook of Dom’s neck. The tickle of Matt’s warm breath on his skin made him shiver involuntarily.  
  
“Er, what are you doing?” Dom asked.  
  
He noted the strange way all the hairs on his arms and neck stood on end in response to Matt’s proximity, before his friend pulled away to reply.  
  
“Seeing if you smell of elderberries.”  
  
Dom snorted, shifting in his seat, the iPod half-forgotten.  
  
“You know what they smell like?”  
  
Matt shrugged.  
  
“Not really, but like some kind of berry, I’d think,” he explained. “Which you don’t, from what I could tell.”  
  
He leaned back in again, this time higher up, inhaling a deep breath next to Dom’s ear. A soft, startled noise escaped Dom’s throat as the action induced another shudder in his body, and he shrugged his shoulders up in reflex. Despite Matt’s semi-plausible explanation, his behaviour was still slightly bewildering, given his earlier discomfort at close contact.  
  
“No, not berries. Kind of flowery,” Matt informed him. “Though maybe still... _fruity_.”  
  
The mischievous smirk and arched eyebrow confirmed his implication.  
  
“Oi, easy,” Dom replied, well-aware of where this was heading, yet again.  
  
He returned Matt’s smirk with his own wry grin.  
  
“Must be your shampoo, yeah?” Matt continued, his fingertips tugging at the ends of Dom’s hair. “Been buying in the women’s aisle again?”  
  
Dom rolled his eyes, swatting the hand away, which was also making his skin prickle.  
  
“Piss off.”  
  
Matt’s nose nestled briefly in his hair again, making Dom flinch.  
  
“Yep, definitely flowery,” Matt confirmed. “You _do_ buy the gayest-smelling hair products, you know that?”  
  
Dom sighed, shoving Matt slightly with his shoulder and discarding the iPod beside him.  
  
“Well, I didn’t think you’d be smelling it, otherwise I’d have picked something you like better,” he replied sarcastically, fighting a smile.  
  
He leaned over to take a whiff of Matt’s own brunette locks. Dom was hit with the mildly sweet scent of coconut, mixed with a slight spiciness he presumed was Matt’s aftershave.  
  
Matt yelped and shuddered at the intrusion, fighting him off.  
  
“Yeah, tickly, isn’t it?” Dom said, poking his tongue in his cheek and raising an eyebrow.  
  
Matt re-settled himself and smoothed down his shirt.  
  
“No,” he replied indignantly. “You just surprised me.”  
  
Dom snorted a laugh.  
  
“Oh really? So you won’t care if I do it again?”  
  
This time he turned to pin Matt’s shoulder to the back of the couch and his head to one side, before inhaling deliberately and noisily from the bottom of his collarbone all the way up his throat to behind his ear.  
  
Matt squealed and convulsed beneath him, his hands clutching at Dom’s shirt and hair in protest. Dom released him, laughing, and was met with a scowling, flushed Bellamy.  
  
“Wanker,” Matt muttered, fingers fidgeting on the skin of his neck where Dom’s face had been.  
  
“Well, you did just try convincing me that you weren’t ticklish,” Dom grinned. “You should know better than to bullshit me, mate.”  
  
Matt pouted, a stubborn gleam in his eyes.  
  
“Well, you are too,” he pointed out.  
  
“Not as much as you,” Dom replied. “I can _always_ make you scream like a girl.”  
  
Matt narrowed his eyes.  
  
“Is that so?”  
  
“It is.”  
  
Dom tensed, seeing Matt turn toward him with a predatory expression. He saw Matt’s fingers twitch, and a small, nervous giggle escaped his lips.  
  
For a moment, Dom hesitated. He wasn’t entirely sure how Matt would react if he launched into a full-blown tickle attack; it had been some time since they’d last had one. To be honest, Dom couldn’t actually remember when it was, probably a year or more ago at least.  
  
But it was those seconds of hesitation that allowed Matt to gain the first advantage. Matt was upon him, bony knees and taut, wiry body pinning him down on the couch at ribs and hips, while dexterous hands weaselled their way to the soft spots around Dom’s waist and belly. The attack was quick and brutal, making Dom gasp and swear, with Matt laughing insanely in his ear.  
  
He wriggled and convulsed in an attempt to get away from Matt’s hands, overwhelmed by the sickening mix of agony and hilarity; that state of utter discomfort that made you feel like you were losing your mind. But no matter how much he writhed and kicked, the little bastard stuck fast, seemingly adhering those scrawny legs to Dom’s body and always managing to jam long fingers into the most tender places.  
  
After a couple of minutes of struggling, heaving and gasping, Dom let out a groan, shaking his head and flopping it down on the cushions of the couch.  
  
“Okay, okay. Stop, stop, stop, _please_. You win, you win, stop!” he begged.  
  
Matt paused his tickling but kept Dom pinned in place, breathing hard through his nose. He raised an eyebrow before speaking.  
  
“You give in?”  
  
“I give in, fucking hell. I really give in. You win,” Dom agreed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.  
  
He let his head loll back on the couch, eyelids fluttering briefly. His heart thudded in his ears, and his body still felt twitchy in anticipation of another attack.  
  
Matt loosened the grip he had of Dom’s wrist and shoulder, and eased his weight back onto his own haunches instead of Dom’s body. Satisfied he was victorious, he crawled the rest of the way off Dom, releasing him and grinning smugly.  
  
Dom used the opportunity to fling himself back over onto Matt, surprising him and pinning him down face-first into the couch. Skinny limbs flailed furiously, but now Dom was prepared he was able to use his slight height and weight advantage to the fullest, holding him in place.  
  
His strong thighs straddled Matt’s hips and arse, rendering legs useless, and he pressed one hand to the back of Matt’s neck, the other with his forearm across Matt’s shoulder and arm.  
  
“Lying bastard!” Matt gasped from below him, stilling writhing in an attempt to escape and exact revenge. “Fucking, fucking wanker!”  
  
Dom laughed, a little surprised by Matt’s fury, and leaned his face down to taunt the singer.  
  
“Would’ve thought you’d be able to tell by now when I’m faking it,” Dom grinned, eyelids heavy. “Losing it in your old age.”  
  
Matt scowled, half his face still mashed into the cushion, and tried to claw out with his fingers. Dom wedged one of Matt’s arms under his body and covered the other with his own arm, pinning him around the wrist with his fingers.  
  
“Fuck you!” Matt growled.  
  
Dom giggled, pushing harder at the wrist and hips, and wrapping his fingers further around Matt’s neck.  
  
“Oooh, somebody’s got their knickers in a twist,” he teased. “You’ve got to think further ahead with your strategies, you know.”  
  
At Dom’s tighter, rougher hold over him, Matt suddenly went limp, and the scowl on his face gave way to a strange, bewildered expression with slightly raised eyebrows. He didn’t say anything, eyes fixed on a point somewhere seemingly in the distance, and Dom watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed slowly, thickly.  
  
Confused, Dom loosened his grip, eying Matt warily for any sign of retribution. But even as he released him completely and slid his legs off Matt’s hips, there was no indication of a plot for revenge. Matt lay motionless for a moment, and Dom felt his stomach tighten in realisation. He’d taken things too far and upset Matt. Well, at least irritated him enough to make him feel uncomfortable and awkward. Dom mentally scolded himself.  
  
They weren’t fucking fifteen years old anymore, pushing against one another to find their physical and emotional limits; he needed to remember that. If he pushed now, it was likely Matt would just give, and be hurt and annoyed. Dom didn’t want that, to be a source of discomfort for Matt, he had enough to deal with as it was.  
  
Dom sank back onto his heels, his smile faded.  
  
“Sorry,” he blurted out. “Didn’t mean to hurt you, not really. Was just being a wanker again. Sorry.”  
  
He was starting to sound like a broken record, apologising to Matt after saying or doing something stupid, taking things too far.  
  
Matt had sat up slowly, as though in a daze. His body remained partially facing away from Dom, and his hand came up to scratch sluggishly at the back of his neck. Dom could see the tensing and loosening of muscles in Matt’s jaw, and how a flush had crept its way up his throat to colour his cheeks.  
  
“No... I’m alright,” Matt replied vaguely.  
  
He then swallowed again and shook his head, his hair still in disarray from Dom’s attack.  
  
“I’m fine, it’s okay, you didn’t hurt me,” he said more quickly, firmly now. “Just caught me off-guard. I wasn’t expecting... wasn’t expecting it.”  
  
Matt still had a slightly perplexed expression on his features, but now he turned to face Dom again, righting himself into a comfortable sitting position once more.  
  
Despite Matt’s verbal reassurances, Dom could still sense a shift in atmosphere between them, and felt like a twat for being the one to create it. It didn’t seem right for there to be awkwardness between them, not like this, given how long they’d known each other. Besides, to some extent, Dom had been trying to recapture that intense closeness he and Matt had shared when they were younger.  
  
He wasn’t sure why that _was_ exactly; it was simply something he’d noticed growing in the back of his mind the last few weeks. A dull ache for intimacy, which he supposed was partially the result of his drifting apart from Jess.  
  
But, no. It was more than that.  
  
Matt was a fixed entity in his life, always had been. Dom wanted it to remain that way, and regaining their previous level of trust seemed like good insurance. Time was, there wasn’t a thought or experience they _didn’t_ share. They’d known each other back to front and inside out. Dom was aware that part of it could be attributed to the emotional rawness and ferocity that everyone went through in their teens, but that close bond had been sustained into their twenties as well.  
  
When it had slipped away, it hadn’t been with any struggle or distress; Dom had barely noticed, and hadn’t minded at the time. But now, he found himself needing it again. Perhaps he was getting sentimental and desperate as he approached middle-age, but whatever the reason, he needed to discipline himself if he wanted that old friendship back.  
  
Dom fixed his features into a serious expression and pressed a hand over Matt’s forearm in earnest.  
  
“No, look, I was being a fuckwit, when there was no call for it,” he said. “I don’t want to be the prick that makes you angry and uncomfortable. You don’t need that at the moment. I’m sorry, really.”  
  
Matt’s expression softened and he smiled, eyebrow arching a little.  
  
“Nah, it’s alright. No need to panic, I’m not going to break down or anything,” he replied, waving his hand dismissively. “I know you were just pissing about, didn’t mean anything by it.”  
  
“I know, but I probably shouldn’t fuck around so much, and actually _think_ before I do something,” Dom said. “Time for me to grow up a bit, maybe.”  
  
Matt shrugged, an impish smile on his lips.  
  
“Where’s the fun in that?”  
  
There was a swift slap to the side of Dom’s head, before Matt bolted off the couch, giggling manically, and escaping out the veranda doors, down the steps.  
  
Dom leapt after him, a wide smile stretching across his face and his chest filling with a nostalgic warmth. Perhaps the time for maturity could wait a bit longer, he thought as he hurried after the lithe, dorky figure running away from him across the sand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My description of the employee Michelle in this chapter is pretty Yikes in retrospect. The jokes about her being a sex worker and the exoticizing language are not something I would be comfortable writing now.


	5. Chapter 5

It seemed worse tonight than Dom remembered it being before. Matt had been on the phone for a good half hour at least, most of that consisting of short, angry tones and swearing. Not that Dom could really hear what was being said, but occasionally the _fuck_ or _bollocks_ was loud enough for him to make out the words. And sometimes Matt would cut abruptly into rough Italian, then back again into English when he got too frustrated to bother to translate. It was an uncomfortable mess of sighs and swearing and domestic arguing that Dom didn’t really want to be witness to, but couldn’t really escape.  
  
Matt had come over his villa for dinner again, and they’d just finished eating when Gaia rang. Matt had slunk out onto the deck, closing the door behind him, when he’d realised this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation that he wanted Dom to overhear. But it was a bit hard not to acknowledge at least some of it when they were arguing so vehemently and Matt was becoming visibly distraught with each passing minute. Dom could hardly interrupt and ask Matt to leave simply because it was making him feel awkward.  
  
He winced as Matt banged a fist against the side of the villa, making the French doors rattle. Selfishly, he hoped Matt wouldn’t break anything out there in the venting of his anxiety, remembering back to past times of Bellamy on a destructive rampage. That said, these weren’t the same circumstances at all; previously, damage he’d inflicted had been out of the overwhelming rush of exhilaration, excitement and adrenaline rather than anything negative. Matt could have less enthusiasm for breaking things out of despair or anger, compared to when he did it for fun. Or, he could have more. Dom wasn’t sure.  
  
Dom risked a glance over to Matt’s form outside the glass doors, and his stomach clenched at the sight that greeted him. Matt’s free hand rubbed anxiously at the bridge of his nose and over his eyes a few times, before coming to rest up against the doorframe. His shoulders were slumped over, head drooped slightly toward the floor and feet were turned inward. He’d obviously been fidgeting with his t-shirt because it was creased and crumpled on one side but not the other, and his hair had also been worried into a strange style by his fingers.  
  
Standing up from the couch, Dom headed to the kitchen for another glass of wine, averting his eyes from the dishevelled figure that was his best friend.  
  
He’d tried to ignore it over the past few weeks, play it off as him getting paranoid for no reason, but Dom had to admit that it was getting worse. Every time they talked, Matt and Gaia seemed to argue for longer, exchange more vicious barbs, and apologise more weakly and wearily into the phone for taking their shit out on each another. In the time Dom had known them as a couple, they’d always been fiery and a little explosive at times, but this seemed different somehow. Matt would always fight back to any accusations or affronts, but now the retorts seemed laboured and more out of frustration and tiredness; a means to end the argument. His heart simply wasn’t in it.  
  
After a few minutes, Dom noticed that the shouting and swearing had stopped, and only the murmur of Matt’s voice could be heard. There were long pauses where he thought Matt had hung up the phone, but then he’d resume speaking before more moments of silence. Dom could hear him pacing back and forth across the deck, and he didn’t doubt that Matt’s hair was again being tormented into an unruly mess by his free hand.  
  
Then all sound from outside ceased, and Dom turned back toward the veranda door expectantly. Matt came back inside quietly, his movements slow and careful. His face was pale and bore a hollow expression as he closed the door behind him. Dom watched him swallow slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing prominently against the thin skin of his throat.  
  
“Alright?” Dom asked cautiously, as Matt remained silent and motionless.  
  
Matt’s eyes came up to focus on Dom’s face, the blue orbs betraying very little more than his face.  
  
“It’s done now.”  
  
Dom waited, but Matt didn’t continue. He pressed his lips together before speaking again.  
  
“What’s done?”  
  
Matt blinked slowly and Dom could see the dark circles under his eyes.  
  
“Me and Gaia.”  
  
“I thought you already were...?”  
  
Matt let out a sigh, his fingers running along the wood grain of the door beside him.  
  
“Yeah. But for good now. She doesn’t want to wait for me anymore.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Dom didn’t know what else to say. He knew he should; this was his best friend after all. He should know what to do to console him, to make him feel better, or try to at least. But he was at a loss as Matt stood there with a vacant expression. It seemed awkward because Matt and Gaia had already broken up, in part at least, when Matt had moved out and come to the island. So how did you break up with someone you weren’t really with anyway?  
  
And Dom couldn’t tell if Matt was upset. Of course he would be, _should_ be, but it didn’t really seem like it. He was just quiet, keeping everything in, the look in his eye a veiled one. He was probably in shock, the truth not really hitting him yet, but that made it even more confusing. Dom didn’t know how to console someone who wasn’t upset.  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
It was a feeble attempt, but Dom had to try something. He made his way over to where Matt was, reaching out a hand. He squeezed at his shoulder and then rubbed it gently, trying to throw a sympathetic look which unfortunately came off as more of a frown. Matt’s postured stiffened and he shrugged the hand away, scowling slightly.  
  
“Leave it, I’m fine,” he said irritably.  
  
He looked over at Dom, frowning and then sighing.  
  
“Just...” Matt started, tone softer. “Just leave it...”  
  
Dom let his arm drop to his side, staring down at his yellow socks for a few moments. He raised his head again and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, sighing softly. Licking his lips, he waited for Matt to make the next move.  
  
Rubbing at his eye with the heel of his palm, Matt let out another frustrated sigh, shaking his head. When he opened his eyes again, his expression was a blank one, gaze flicking constantly away from Dom’s.  
  
“Can we go for a walk?” he said suddenly, turning his head to look outside. “It’s a nice night. We should go out in it. It’s wasted otherwise.”  
  
Dom didn’t think it was an appropriate time to remind Matt that nearly every night here was a nice one, the weather barely ever anything but beautiful.  
  
“Yeah, of course,” Dom replied.  
  
He peeled the socks from his feet and grabbed the keys from the kitchen countertop, before heading back toward the veranda doors. Matt mirrored Dom’s actions, removing his socks and bunching them in his hand. As he opened one of the doors, Dom stepped behind to follow him out, moving his lips near Matt’s ear and pressing a hand to the small of his back.  
  
“You’d better be leaving those outside; don’t want you stinking up my villa,” he teased softly, a small smile on his lips.  
  
Matt turned his head as he stepped out onto the deck, a very faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t say anything, and Dom bit his lip as he shut the door behind them.  
  
* * *  
  
When Matt disappeared for the next few days, Dom told himself not to worry. It was completely understandable in the circumstances. The man had just broken up with his long-term girlfriend ( _fiancée_ , Dom reminded himself) so of course he wanted some time alone. Especially given that it was Matt. He needed time to grieve by himself and deal with the pain, without having to worry about social interaction. He wasn’t the kind of person who wanted pity or comfort from others. He didn’t want affectionate embraces as he sobbed over his broken heart.  
  
Still, Dom couldn’t help but feel anxious. He called Matt’s phone, just to say a quick hello, but it was turned off. He tried this for three days but the result was always the same; the clipped, awkward tone of Matt’s voicemail message in his ear. Dom contemplated going around to his villa, but if he was in the state of mind that Dom suspected, it wouldn’t be a good idea to confront Matt on his doorstep if he didn’t want to be disturbed.  
  
Dom went scuba diving, venturing further than he’d been able to recently given that Matt had always been with him, and found it helped clear his head a little. Immersing himself in the clear, warm depths of the ocean seemed to cut him off from everything else that was going on in his life. Being surrounded by that silent, pressing expanse of water made him feel like he was somewhere else, _someone_ else, or not even a person at all; just an observer in this strange, blue world where the worries of everyday existence were the age-old battles of life and death. The fish, crustaceans, corals and jellyfish took no heed of the complexities of close friendships, domestic arguments, or relationship breakdowns; they had only thoughts of food, predators and reproduction. Dom’s life had been as simple as that before, he knew, and diving down here brought that clarity back to some extent. But as soon as he returned to shore, the weight of the world came to rest on his shoulders again. Though he figured some relief was better than none at all.  
  
Dom also visited the community market again. It had become a weekly fixture in his routine, swinging by on his bike to pick up fresh supplies and talk with the locals. They knew him by name now, and still found it amusing that he didn’t have a wife or girlfriend with him to help him cook. They’d given him a long, strange stare when he’d said Matt was his helper in the kitchen and around the house, so he’d decided not to mention it again after that. Clearly, there were some cultural differences that didn’t translate well.  
  
But all the time, whether diving, cooking, or calling Michelle back to take care of the tension that had returned to his shoulders, Matt lingered in the back of his thoughts. He couldn’t shake his nervousness about Matt being alone in such a vulnerable state, but also noticed the hollow atmosphere that pervaded his days in Matt’s absence. He’d grown accustomed to having him around; it seemed strange now that he wasn’t there.  
  
So it was with welcome relief that his phone rang on the fifth day, displaying Matt’s image as identifier. The photo always made Dom smile because Matt hated it so much, and constantly tried to delete it from his phone whenever he got his hands on it. Not that it was even that bad a shot, Dom thought, but would still wind Matt up about it regardless. It had been taken about six months ago, first thing in the morning on the tour bus, though Dom didn’t remember in which country. Matt’s hair was atrocious, dishevelled and in dire need of a cut, and Dom had caught him just as he’d gotten out of bed, right in the middle of a large yawn. The resulting photo was Matt with one eyelid shut, one half-open, a stretched, gaping gob and splayed hand pressed across a pale throat. Definitely a keeper.  
  
It was this picture that greeted him when his phone rang, and he’d never been so thankful to see that stupid expression in all his life. He dived for the phone from his reclined position on the sand, and fumbled with it across his towel before answering it. Taking a slow breath, he tried not to sound too anxious in his first words to his best friend in five days.  
  
“Hey Matt. Alright?”  
  
That was good; keep it brief, and then Matt wouldn’t be able to tell how much Dom had worried about his wellbeing. There was a long pause before the reply came.  
  
“Yeah. You?”  
  
Not exactly the broken-hearted confession Dom was hoping for. Clearly Matt didn’t want to talk about it just yet. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised.  
  
“Yeah. Just chilling out over at Blue Haven Beach. You know, down in that bay I showed you the other week? Might go for a swim soon, the water’s lovely.”  
  
Dom traced shapes on the sand beside his towel with his fingertips, the grains cool under his touch in the shade of the palms.  
  
“Oh yeah, that’s right. That place is nice. Really nice actually. I haven’t been back there since then,” Matt said thoughtfully.  
  
There was another long pause before Matt spoke again. Dom climbed back on his towel, lying down, and slid his sunglasses back over his eyes, closing the lids as he listened.  
  
“You gonna be around there for a while...?” Matt asked.  
  
Dom stretched out, arching his back and neck and scratching idly at his side.  
  
“Yeah, I didn’t have anything else planned.”  
  
“Can I... I mean, is it alright if I come down, then?” Matt asked hesitantly. “I’m not really doing much up here, and I sort of feel like a swim or something maybe. If you don’t mind the company. I can always find something else to do if you’re busy.”  
  
Dom’s fingers paused on his skin for a moment at Matt’s words, surprise and confusion overtaking him. Since when did Matt need to ask his permission to hang out with him? And when had he ever declined the company of his best friend? It was clear that Matt wasn’t feeling entirely himself if he was so nervous about Dom rejecting his request.  
  
“No, of course, absolutely, that’s fine,” he replied. “Come down whenever. I’m just down by the path that comes out on the north side, where we went the first time, with my towel and other gear. I’ll be in the water if I’m not on the beach when you get here.”  
  
Matt said he was pretty sure where that was, and that he’d be there within the hour. Hanging up the phone, Dom shook his head at Matt’s peculiar behaviour, wondering if he’d be the same when he got there in person. Precisely how he was going to deal with Matt if that was going to be the case for the whole afternoon, Dom hadn’t planned yet.  
  
Of course, he’d been with Matt through other break-ups before, but in the past they hadn’t been as long or as committed as the one with Gaia. It was going to be a completely different change of lifestyle for Matt; no more heading back to a home in Italy during breaks, with a loyal woman to greet him and soothe him in his state of mental and physical exhaustion. No one to kiss or call after those fantastic gigs, or to take to bed to release the build up of tension and excitement on those lonely nights.  
  
He would be back to a self-reliance and independence that he hadn’t known since his early twenties, and Dom wasn’t entirely sure Matt would know how to cope with that. Dom would have to help him, he knew that, but that was only if Matt would be willing to let him. Matt might shut himself off from everyone else to endure it all alone, and end up distant and aloof, even with those who knew him best. Dom didn’t want that, and he told himself he’d fight tooth and nail to make sure Matt got through this in one piece.  
  
True to his word, Matt turned up about an hour later, just after Dom had returned from a quick dip in the ocean. He came bearing a cooler bag, his towel and swimming trunks, which he dumped on the sand next to Dom’s gear, before kicking off his sand shoes and settling down beside Dom. It looked like he’d given up his attempts at wearing jeans and t-shirt everywhere, more than likely because it was simply too hot to dress like that all the time. Dom knew Matt generally didn’t feel comfortable in shorts or open shoes, and he’d tried to maintain trousers and slip-on casual shoes for the last few weeks, but had clearly grown tired of being overheated all the time.  
  
Today he was wearing long, grey shorts and a pale, button-down cotton shirt, along with his sunglasses that he took everywhere on the island. Dom was surprised at how well-dressed he looked. Usually, when left to his own devices, Matt appeared as though he’d put his clothes on in the dark; clashing patterns and colours were rife, with strangely designed jackets and shirts. But today, the grey of his shorts made his blue eyes quite striking, and the light shade of the shirt complemented his pale complexion. Given that Matt was also likely in a fragile emotional state, he’d done well, and Dom was impressed.  
  
“Water nice?” Matt asked, unzipping the cooler.  
  
“Yeah, lovely. Might go back in again later,” Dom confirmed. “You gonna go in?”  
  
“Yeah, probably later too,” he replied. “Hungry first. I brought some lunch... er, afternoon tea for us. There’s cornbread and salad that I lifted from your place on the way, and some freshly cooked prawns from that village just over the hill. Oh, and the wine, of course.”  
  
He produced two plastic wine glasses from inside the cooler, clutching the stems between the fingers of one hand, before reaching for the bottle of red and pulling the cork out with his teeth. Dom removed the containers of salads from the bag, and was pleased to find Matt had remembered cutlery and plates too.  
  
“Nice of you to ask before stealing food from my fridge,” Dom grinned. “I could have been saving that for something.”  
  
“Oh, come on, you don’t give a shit,” Matt replied with a smirk.  
  
Then his smile faltered and he looked up at Dom with a nervous expression, the pouring of wine temporarily halted.  
  
“Do you?”  
  
His tone was quieter now, apprehensive, and there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there earlier. Still smiling, Dom frowned and shook his head, reaching a hand over to Matt’s shoulder.  
  
“No, of course not mate, I was just taking the piss,” he replied. “I gave you that spare key for a reason. You can drop in whenever you want. And the food I buy is for both of us anyway.”  
  
Relief washed over Matt’s face, his smile returning, and he resumed his pouring of wine. He passed the half-full glass to Dom before splashing out his own. Dom dug a small, flat hollow in the sand for them to press their glasses into so they wouldn’t fall over and spill wine everywhere. He then passed one of the plates and sets of cutlery over to Matt, keeping one for himself, and they began to dig in to their impromptu feast.  
  
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly with the consumption of fresh food and good wine, the two of them sharing idle conversation in the warm sun. Well, for Dom it was idle, but Matt’s subject matter was always of worldly significance and dire importance, or so he led Dom to believe. Today was no exception, with discussion of the end of humanity from asteroids, and Russia’s development of special missiles to destroy them before they reached Earth. Matt explained that in fact the missile project was funded by China, and the US government had made several attempts to steal the technology for their own purposes. Apparently the US government was not interested in preventing asteroid collision, because they had emergency stations in place all around the globe manned by key business and political persons, that would survive such a catastrophe. Some said the US even seemed to welcome the end of civilisation that way as long as they prevailed, Matt had informed him with a knowing quirk of his eyebrow.  
  
Dom took in Matt’s new theory, deciding to have a look into some of the more interesting ideas at a later date, and simply nodding and asking questions during sufficient pauses in Matt’s speech. He found the sound of Matt’s voice relaxing; the persistent, enthusiastic tone a very familiar one in his life, even back when they had few media parties for Matt to espouse his views to. That had never really mattered to Matt anyway; he was happy to ramble on about his latest revelation to anyone that would listen, be they world-circulating music magazines or someone he’d met at the pub that night.  
  
Fortunately for Dom, Matt’s constant nattering and fervour for radical ideas had never bothered him, and like now, he often found their presence strangely soothing. But despite his own mental relaxation, he was still concerned about Matt’s state of mind. Apart from the small hiccup earlier, Matt had shown no outward signs of change in his emotions; he was his usual fast-talking, sarcastic and smart-arse self. Dom didn’t think that was a good thing, given that he’d only just broken up with Gaia, and it seemed to confirm some of his earlier fears that Matt was cutting himself off from everyone.  
  
It was with regards to these thoughts that Dom got the first of two surprises that day; Matt declined his offer to come back to his villa that evening for some more DVD watching or listening to music. As they sat watching the sun start to set, Dom suggested they head in before dark to have a light dinner and chill out. Shining eyes pinned on the horizon, Matt shrugged and then shook his head, fingers unusually still as they splayed out across his bare knees.  
  
“I might go back to my place actually,” he said. “I’ve got some stuff I want to do, things to sort out, y’know?”  
  
Dom had no idea what urgent matters Matt could possibly have right now, but didn’t pursue it further. He’d hoped Matt had worked through his initial need to be alone, and would now be grateful for more constant company. It would give Dom the chance to perhaps glean some information about exactly how Matt was feeling and what he needed.  
  
The night had always been a time when Matt purported he was at his most creative, and Dom suspected a large part of this was because the darkness generated some sort of emotional vulnerability in him. Matt seemed freer in expressing his inner most thoughts, and Dom had always felt most connected to him during the very early hours of the morning. So he’d secretly hoped Matt would be around that night to open up to him and release some of his burden, but apparently it was not to be.  
  
Matt turned his head to meet Dom’s gaze, the soft orange and pink hues of the sunset splashing onto his face, bathing him in a warm glow. Dom noticed now the heavy shadows under his lids and slight tension in his lifted shoulders.  
  
“But I’ll come over in the morning, and we can head to the studio, okay?” Matt suggested.  
  
Dom agreed, and watched as the sun dipped below the glittering deep blue of the horizon, before standing and beginning to help Matt pack their things.  
  
The second surprise was a phone call from Jess late that evening. It was friendly, but brief and to the point, and something about her tone made Dom feel strange. She informed him she wouldn’t be able to get away from work and suggested they reschedule their holiday for another time. Dom knew she wasn’t being formal on purpose to be rude to him; it was simply what their conversations had evolved into as of late because of their lack of contact.  
  
And Dom found himself agreeing with her, but explained he might stay on longer on his own to make the most of his break from touring. He decided against telling her that Matt was there too; she may suspect he’d planned this on purpose in order to hang out with his friends. Though, he spent enough time with Matt as it was, so had no motive to do so. Granted, that was on tour, and in the last few weeks especially, their interaction in an informal, unscheduled environment like the island had felt very different.  
  
Dom couldn’t remember a time in the recent past where they’d spent extended amounts of time together purely by choice, so now that they were it was a novel experience. And one that he found himself enjoying immensely. Besides, there wasn’t much point in him rushing back to London. He had nothing to go back to other than an empty flat and miserable weather.  
  
Jess didn’t question his decision to stay. In a distracted tone, she told him she couldn’t really blame him, given how lovely that part of the world was. She then apologised for having to cut the conversation short and said her goodbyes, and Dom bid her farewell.  
  
When he’d hung up, Dom found himself staring down at the phone in his hands, unsure of what to do next. He didn’t feel hurt, or angry, despite the distant nature and briefness of the call, or even particularly sad at the evident continuing disintegration of their relationship.  
  
In fact, he didn’t feel much of anything anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys suffer through the hot weather. Matt finds something to keep them entertained.

Dom reached a hand up to his face, wiping the sweat down from his forehead, temples and around his mouth. He knew it would be back not five minutes later, but it was too uncomfortable to just leave the damp on his skin. Even on the deck in the shade, the heat was overwhelming, hanging heavy on everything. But more than just the heat, it was the humidity that made it almost unbearable.  
  
Dom’s cotton shirt and shorts clung to his slick skin, and every breath he took in felt thick and difficult in his lungs. Riding or walking today was out of the question, and even swimming or diving seemed like entirely too much effort. Sitting out on the veranda with a nice cold beer and a glass full of ice was about all Dom could muster, and he hoped for an afternoon sea breeze would kick in sometime soon. Though it didn’t look likely; the leaves of all the palms he could see from his villa hung still and limp, and the ocean waves rolled in only very gently to break silently upon the sand.  
  
Dom could only imagine how torturous it was going to be to sleep at night. There were fans in the villa; one in his room, and he had plenty of ice and face towels to wet himself down with, but he feared that wouldn’t work for him. He’d never liked fans blowing directly on him while he slept; they chilled his skin too quickly in one place, and ended with him climbing in and out of bed every couple of hours to turn the fan off or back on. The oscillating type was slightly better but he still preferred a room cooled by the outside air or a mild air conditioner. In some ways he knew he was still a British boy at heart, despite not spending much of his time there anymore, as he was able to cope better with extremes of cold rather than heat.  
  
Fingering a piece of ice from his glass on the table, Dom placed it against the pulse point on his left wrist, dragging it up along his heated skin to the crook of his elbow. He let out a sigh, goosebumps appearing along his arms at the contrast of temperature to his hot body, and closed his eyes.  
  
After only a few moments and slides along the inside of his arm, the ice had melted and he was left with only the watery remnants. Picking up another piece, this one he lifted up to place against the slightly golden skin of his throat, first one side then the other. The chill against his carotid arteries sent a shiver down his spine and he shuddered, eyelids drooping at the strange but pleasurable sensation.  
  
He was in the middle of placing ice on his bare chest between the hems of his unbuttoned shirt when his phone rang. Reaching lazily to the table with his free hand, he pressed down to answer it and held it loosely to his ear.  
  
“Hey man,” he said. “Alright?”  
  
Shifting the ice between his fingers, he traced a path from his sternum to his belly button, warmed water melting off in its wake to leave a damp trail.  
  
“Yeah,” came Matt’s voice from the speaker. “You?”  
  
“Yeah, except for being bloody hot,” he replied. “Weather’s killing me today.”  
  
Dom slipped the diminishing ice cube across his chest, to just under his collarbone, the droplets of moisture trickling slowly over the contours of muscle and bone.  
  
“You should sit in a cold bath, like me,” Matt informed him. “Takes the edge off.”  
  
“You’re in the bath right now?” he asked. “While on the phone?”  
  
Dom heard a shift and the slosh of water.  
  
“Yeah, so?”  
  
Pausing in his trail of ice over his chest, Dom frowned.  
  
“Please tell me you have pants on?”  
  
“No, that’d be stupid, of course I don’t,” Matt snorted.  
  
Dom groaned distastefully.  
  
“And you’d decided it’d be a good idea to call me while naked in your bath, yeah?” he asked.  
  
Matt was quiet on the other end for a few moments.  
  
“Hang on.”  
  
Dom heard a clatter then the splash of water, then a rustle as Matt picked up the phone again.  
  
“Okay, I’m out now then,” Matt informed him. “I wasn’t thinking. Should’ve got out first. Sorry.”  
  
Dom fell silent, slightly stunned. He was expecting Matt to tell him to shut up and stop being such a prude, as he would have done himself if the situation was reversed. He’d meant the complaint in jest, another teasing exchange, and hadn’t thought Matt would take it so seriously.  
  
“Hey, no, that’s okay. Was only taking the piss,” he replied awkwardly.  
  
He heard Matt clear his throat and the background noises became less echoed as he left the bathroom.  
  
“Erm, anyway, I was gonna say that you should come over,” Matt continued. “There’s something I want to show you.”  
  
“Considering you were just naked in the bath, I think I’ll pass.”  
  
This managed to draw a snorted giggle from Matt.  
  
“No, no, not that, dirty bastard. Which, by the way, you’ve already seen anyway,” he replied, the grin evident in his voice. “Something else.”  
  
Dom started as his fingers fumbled with another piece of ice, the cube slipping on his chest and over a nipple. He felt a rush of heat wash over him, eliciting a slight twitch in his shorts as his nipple hardened from the chilly attention. Biting his lip and forgetting where he was for a moment, he allowed the ice to linger, shifting his body’s focus from the external stifle of temperature to the internal pleasurable cascade of chemicals.  
  
“Well?” Matt’s voice cut through the fog that had enveloped his mind. “You coming or what?”  
  
Dom grinned wolfishly at Matt’s wording.  
  
He moved the ice cube to the other nipple, swallowing the groan that threatened to escape him.  
  
“Nah,” he replied thickly. “Can’t be bothered.”  
  
A leisurely session of afternoon wanking, complete with ice to tease himself, sounded heavenly right then. He really didn’t want to go to the effort of cycling in the heat to the other villa to find out what Matt had to show him.  
  
“Oh come on, just for a bit, yeah?” Matt persisted. “I want you to see what I got.”  
  
Dom sighed, allowing the last of the ice to melt down into his belly button. He trailed a hand between his legs, rubbing idly at the mild hardness that had developed in his crotch. He was aware it was a little bit strange for him to be doing this while still on the phone with Matt, but he found he didn’t really care. No-one else was around to see, and what Matt didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him.  
  
“It’s too hot,” Dom replied. “I’d have to shower if I rode all the way there.”  
  
Matt grunted in annoyance.  
  
“So? You can shower here, I don’t care,” he insisted. “Just bring all your overnight stuff; I figured you could stay here tonight anyway.”  
  
Dom let his hand rest on his hip, eyes tracing over the shape of the tented shorts before him. He really bloody ached for a personal pull this afternoon, rather than spending it finding out Matt’s likely boring surprise. Well, in truth, he ached for a warm body to bury himself in, but the touch of his own calloused hands would have to do.  
  
“Matt...” Dom sighed, rubbing at his closed eyes with his fingertips. “I’m really not in the mood for this today, it’s too hot. I want to relax by myself.”  
  
Matt was silent for a few moments before resuming his whining tone.  
  
“Dom, don’t be so antisocial,” he replied. “You can do whatever you want by yourself tomorrow; come over and hang out with me so I can show you this. Besides, I’m fucking bored and need you to entertain me.”  
  
Dom chuckled at Matt revealing his ulterior motive. He grabbed another piece of ice and popped this one in his mouth, keeping two fingers in as he did so. Closing his eyes again, he played with the cube on his tongue and with his fingertips; the slippery, cool sensations making his head spark. It could be so innocuous, sucking an ice cube, but after awakening his body minutes earlier, it now felt entirely filthy and erotic.  
  
“And how exactly do you want me to entertain you?” Dom asked, his voice thick and husky.  
  
The moment he’d said it, he regretted it. He hadn’t meant it to come out like that; heavy with innuendo and blatantly seductive. His head was just so fuzzy from the heat and mild arousal that he’d blurted it out without thinking.  
  
Matt had fallen silent again on the other end. Dom swallowed his ice cube and cleared his throat.  
  
“Um, I mean, I’m just as bored here so I won’t be much help to you over there,” he said soberly. “Probably just be annoying.”  
  
Wiping a hand down the middle of his damp chest and belly, he then reached for the hems of his shirt, starting to button it back up.  
  
“I don’t care. I’m going a little mad here by myself in this heat,” Matt replied. “Wait until it cools off a bit if you want, but still come over, yeah?”  
  
The dull nag of arousal still lingered in his belly, but Dom knew Matt probably wasn’t going to let this go without a bit of a fight. And he didn’t have the energy for a full-blown argument right now; the hot weather and sex-soaked thoughts were already doing a number on his brain. Besides, he still had that niggling worry about Matt’s mental and emotional health of late, so felt it better to consent to any of his requests for company or attention. Something like this could well be Matt’s unconscious call for help. Or it could simply be his usual restless, hyperactive harassment of Dom. But better to be safe than sorry.  
  
“Okay,” Dom relented. “Give me a couple of hours and I’ll be over.”  
  
He could practically see Matt’s smug grin over the phone.  
  
“Alright, brilliant,” he replied. “See you then.”  
  
“Bye.”  
  
Dom hung up the phone with a sigh. He wasn’t looking forward to the walk or ride to Matt’s place in this muggy weather. But for now at least, he was content to finish his beer and press some more ice on his hot skin. He might even be able to fit in a quick wank if he felt so inclined.  
  
* * *  
  
“ _This_ is what you needed to show me?” Dom asked witheringly. “A fucking TV?”  
  
The walk over to Matt’s had been nearly as horrible as he’d imagined, and he’d immediately jumped in Matt’s shower upon arrival to wash the thick layers of sweat off and cool himself down. Now he’d emerged in a fresh change of clothes, met with the sight of Matt standing proudly next to a small, cheap TV on his coffee table.  
  
“Do you know how fucking hard they are to get here?” Matt replied. “And I had to sneak it in so the resort staff wouldn’t take it off me.”  
  
Dom shrugged.  
  
“So where did you get it?”  
  
“Had to barter with one of the locals,” Matt explained, grinning wryly. “Cost me a good bottle of wine and my red jeans. I was wearing them at the time, so practically asking for the shirt off my back, y’know what I mean?”  
  
Dom raised an eyebrow, flopping down on the couch as he dried his hair.  
  
“Your tour ones?”  
  
Matt nodded.  
  
“Shame,” Dom replied, a smirk on his lips. “They were about the only stylish piece of clothing you owned. Except for mine, which you always stole.”  
  
Matt coughed indignantly.  
  
“Oh bollocks, they were not!” he protested. “I have plenty of good outfits. I’m fashion... erm, _savvy_.”  
  
Dom chuckled.  
  
“You remember the shiny shirts? The shell suits?” he asked. “The gothic jackets and floppy haircuts? And don’t even get me _started_ on the Hawaiian shirts.”  
  
Matt’s lips formed into a pout and he frowned.  
  
“Oh, come off it, you were just as bad,” he argued. “You had fucking raver trousers. And camo gear. And bleached hair. And you have all those bloody rainbow jeans now.”  
  
Grinning, Dom shrugged and discarded the towel onto the back of the couch.  
  
“Yeah, but I always looked good. Time and a place, mate,” he informed him. “I was fashionable, you were just... _weird_.”  
  
He grinned wider at the offended expression on Matt’s face.  
  
“I looked good then too. I still do,” Matt said snippishly. “At least I don’t dress like a queen in skin-tight clothes and fluoro colours.”  
  
Dom’s smile never faded, he just pressed his tongue in one cheek. It was always amusing having this argument with Matt because it was always the same; Matt accused him of dressing gay and he in turn criticised Matt for his complete lack of fashion sense. It was a well-worn path in their banter, like a familiar childhood rhyme or favourite book that you’d read ten times before. And it always ended the same; with both of them agreeing to disagree and leave each other be with their own opinions on fashion.  
  
But for some reason, this time, Dom felt the sudden impulse to change the rules.  
  
“Well, maybe you should,” Dom suggested.  
  
Matt stopped at this, blinking owlishly.  
  
“Eh? What? Me in those awful jeans of yours? I don’t think so,” he scoffed.  
  
Dom cocked his head, eyes travelling over Matt’s figure in thought.  
  
“Well, I know you don’t have much of an arse, but I think your legs would look good in them,” he said slowly. “And bright blues and pinks actually suit you, you know. Make your eyes stand out.”  
  
Matt was staring at him with a perplexed expression.  
  
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he replied sarcastically. “I know we share our wardrobe on tour sometimes, but that’s only a few bits and pieces. I’m not gonna completely copy your fucking lurid outfits, and end up looking like a twat.”  
  
Though his tone was mocking and slightly contemptuous, Dom still noticed how flustered and awkward Matt seemed by the suggestions.  
  
“You won’t look like a twat,” Dom informed him. “All I meant was a few tweaks here and there to enhance what you’ve already got.”  
  
Matt’s neck _did_ flush at this, and he shot Dom another bewildered look before busying himself with his iPod.  
  
“No, I don’t need it. Shut the fuck up about my clothes already,” Matt replied. “Here, make yourself useful and help me rig up the telly.”  
  
Dom rolled his eyes and shook his head.  
  
“I didn’t come all the way out to this island to watch telly,” he said dryly. “I can do that at home.”  
  
Matt quirked an eyebrow, watching him with a sour expression as he fiddled with cables.  
  
“Do you even _have_ one these days?” he replied tersely. “Thought it was just Jess’s now.”  
  
Taken aback by Matt’s hostility, Dom frowned, giving him a long stare as he rested his arms on the back of the couch. Clearly, he’d aggravated Matt more than he’d thought, with his fashion digs.  
  
“No, there’s still the flat in London,” he explained, his eyes never leaving Matt. “Jess bought another place up near her work so she didn’t have to keep commuting back to the city.”  
  
Matt shrugged and started fiddling over by the TV, plugging his iPod in and turning the set on. He slid the device down on the table, the cables hanging loose, before seating himself back on the couch.  
  
“Ah, okay, so she moved out,” Matt said, his eyes narrowing into an almost spiteful slant.  
  
Dom felt the barb in his chest this time, though his expression never changed. He was used to Matt’s blunt and honest attitude, but somehow it seemed different this time, as though he was being intentionally vicious.  
  
He shifted, turning his body to face Matt.  
  
“We have more than one place to live, that’s all,” he said eventually. “You and Gaia always did, so what’s the difference?”  
  
Matt’s small frame tensed at the mention of Gaia, and Dom was sure he saw sadness flash across the ice-blue eyes for a moment. Matt shuffled to one side and stretched his legs out on the chaise lounge, sliding a hand behind his head before tipping it back.  
  
“But we lived in those places _together_ ,” he corrected. “Our home was Italy and we stayed in England when we needed to be over for longer periods because of you and Chris. Jess doesn’t even stay in your London flat anymore, I’m guessing? And none of your stuff is at her new place?”  
  
Dom stilled the burn of anger that flared inside him at Matt’s words; equally spiteful retorts lingering on the tip of his tongue should he choose to retaliate. He had no idea why Matt had suddenly felt the need to be so malicious, when Dom had only been employing his usual gentle mockery of the man. Surely Matt knew the topic of Jess was still a sore one, despite the two of them technically still being a couple. He didn’t have to rub it in, that their relationship was falling apart, and that for all intents and purposes they no longer lived together.  
  
Perhaps Matt had decided that he wanted someone else to feel as shit as he did, and suffer the same heartbreak at the same time. It wouldn’t entirely surprise Dom; Matt could be a real prick like that sometimes when he put his mind to it.  
  
“Okay, you’re right, my stuff isn’t there and she doesn’t go to my flat anymore as far as I know,” Dom conceded. “I don’t want it to be that way, but it is. So I do have a home, well a place to live at least, but there’s no-one there but me now.”  
  
Matt now evidently picked up on the hurt in Dom’s voice, because his expression softened and he looked down at his shorts, fingers fidgeting with the cotton. Dom noticed a slight ruddiness in his cheeks, and was glad to see Matt at least felt slightly ashamed of his insensitive questions.  
  
“Erm, okay. That’s what I meant, that’s all,” Matt coughed. “I wasn’t sure where you were living now. Thought you might’ve sold your flat.”  
  
Dom shook his head, reaching over the table to play with the iPod.  
  
“No, it’s easier just to keep it, even though I’m not there very much,” he explained. “Don’t have to worry about organising hotel shit when we’re back in England, like you don’t.”  
  
Matt smiled grimly.  
  
“Might have to now. Depends if Gaia want to fight me for the London place,” he said.  
  
Dom raised an eyebrow.  
  
“I thought it was under your name?”  
  
“Yeah, it is. But she was practically my wife, so could be entitled to things like that.”  
  
“You really think she’ll want a townhouse in London?” Dom asked. “I wouldn’t have thought she’d be that petty. Or at least want anything of yours from England.”  
  
Matt shrugged, tracing up and down the side seam of his shorts with his fingernails.  
  
“That’s what you do when you break up with someone though, isn’t it?”  
  
Matt slid his legs back off the chaise lounge and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He let his head drop and rubbed at the back of his hair with his hands.  
  
“Don’t want to deal with that shit. Can’t be bothered,” he said wearily. “She can have whatever she wants. I’ll just stay here.”  
  
Dom threw him a wry grin.  
  
“But your townhouse is only a couple of streets away from my flat. If she has it, then you won’t be able to come around and pester me all the time when we’re in England.”  
  
Matt looked up at him, returning the smile, albeit a small one.  
  
“That’s true. You won’t have someone to remind you what a poser you are.”  
  
“And you definitely still need me to tell you what a pretentious wanker you are,” Dom grinned.  
  
Matt giggled, and Dom felt the knot in his stomach loosen a little.  
  
They spent the rest of the day testing out the iPod with Matt’s ‘new’ TV; Dom reluctantly agreeing to start watching _24_ from the beginning of the series. It wasn’t really something that interested him but he knew Matt was keen on it, and couldn’t be bothered debating about it every time they used the iPod. Also, if Matt ended up watching it all by himself, he’d no doubt feel the need to outline every single episode to Dom anyway. It would save his sanity to simply watch it too.  
  
As the night grew late, conversation dwindled over the low hum of music from the telly, and Dom noticed Matt’s eyelids drooping shut every now and then at the end of the couch. Dom yawned loudly, startling Matt, who sat up straighter and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms.  
  
“Shit, I’m knackered and I haven’t even done anything today,” Matt said sleepily.  
  
“Mmm, I’m ready for bed now too,” Dom agreed. “You’ve got a spare pillow and sheet for me to crash on here, yeah?”  
  
“Oh, you’ll be alright on the settee, then?” Matt asked, standing up. “Like your place, I don’t have a second bedroom, sorry.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s okay,” Dom said, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ve slept in worse places.”  
  
Matt returned his knowing grin; fuzzy memories of car backseats, tiny tour buses, unknown house floors and open fields filling both their heads.  
  
Matt padded sleepily to his bedroom and rifled through the linen closet for pillows and sheets. He returned with the items and dumped them on the couch before motioning back toward his room.  
  
“You can use the en-suite first if you want,” he offered. “I’ll put an extra towel in there if you want another shower.”  
  
“Nah, I’ll have one in the morning. But I’ll brush my teeth in there before you go to sleep.”  
  
Matt nodded and wandered back to his bedroom, while Dom retrieved his toothbrush and paste from his faff bag. As he made his way through to the en-suite, he could see Matt out of the corner of his eye, pulling his t-shirt off over his head. The soft light afforded by the single bedside lamp gave Matt’s frame a much warmer, gentler appearance, and Dom could instantly see why Gaia had stayed with him so long.  
  
In the bright daylight or miserable grey weather, Matt could often seem harsh, rigid and confronting, both physically and emotionally. But here in the glow of the late-night bedroom, the deeper, more vulnerable shades of his personality shone through. He appeared warm, welcoming and, more perplexingly to Dom, almost tender.  
  
He grinned to himself as he began to brush his teeth, thinking of the indignant belting and verbal abuse he would be subjected to, if he ever dared describe Matt as tender out loud.  
  
A moment later, the man himself appeared next to him in the bathroom and reached for his own toothbrush. He spotted Dom’s goofy grin and raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Wha– ?” he mumbled, mouth full of foamy toothpaste. “Wha– funny?”  
  
Dom had to spit into the sink, else he dribble down his own shirt from the laughter that overtook him. He rinsed his mouth before replying.  
  
“Nothing. It wasn’t anything.”  
  
“Fu– off. Wha– s’it?”  
  
“It’s not important, don’t worry about it.”  
  
Matt narrowed his eyes and then shook his head.  
  
“Yo– fuckin– weird.”  
  
Dom just grinned again before wiping the remnants of toothpaste from around his mouth and heading out the door.  
  
“Night,” he called.  
  
“Nigh–!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom gets an amusing yet troubling visit from someone in the middle of the night.

Matt was absent again for a few days. At least this time he had his phone on, and texted Dom occasionally to check in, giving the drummer at least a little peace of mind. But it wasn’t until late that Saturday night that Dom actually saw and spoke to his best friend in person again.  
  
Dom stirred in his bed, legs tangled in his sheets, half-awake as dull thudding noises and the sound of a voice permeated his dreams. It was melodic, familiar, and haunted his thoughts; it mingled with strange, blurry images to create a kind of nonsensical, broken film strip in his head. He could feel his limbs shifting, hot and restricted, protesting their discomfort now that he had been drawn out of his deep sleep by something.  
  
Not quite awake yet, Dom rolled over, his brain trying to process whether the noises were real or imaginary, when suddenly he heard another, louder thud and an abrupt cease to the melody, followed by the murmuring of a voice. Stretching his legs out and pushing down the sheets, he swallowed and cracked an eyelid, his mind trying to play catch-up with the body that was already half-roused from sleep.  
  
The melody started again and Dom now heard it distinctly, someone singing nearby, fairly loudly and not completely in tune. It was coming from outside, he was sure of it, and he sat up in bed, stomach twisting a little in fear as to who would be right outside his villa at this time of night. His eyes flicked to the humming red display of the bedside clock.  
  
 _3.12am_  
  
It felt like it too, his muscles objecting to the unexpected use as he sat up in bed and swung his legs around to set his feet on the smooth wooden floor. The singing continued as he stood up and searched around sluggishly for a shirt, finding a pale blue tee discarded on the floor nearby and slipping it on. His mind clicked over as he made his way out of his bedroom, realising he knew the tune that was being warbled, and he rubbed at his hair sleepily with one hand.  
  
As the voice paused at an interval, it was followed by another small thump, then a very familiar high-pitched giggle, and Dom’s body relaxed in recognition. He padded out across the living room to where the noise was coming from, and smiled to himself as the singing started up again, just as loud as before. He turned the latch on the deck door and opened it to the cool night air of the beach, his skin rippling all over with goosebumps at the pleasant chill on his hot skin.  
  
After a moment, Dom spotted the clumsy form of his best friend, sprawled awkwardly at the top of the veranda steps, body lolling from side to side as he sang.  
  
“ _I love you baby! And if it’s quite alright, I need you baby! To warm the lonely nights, I love you baby! Trust in me when I say_ …”  
  
The crooned chorus was followed by an ungraceful hiccupping and then a prompt giggling again, Dom shaking his head as he made his way slowly across the dark deck to the noisy culprit. The singing started up again, and he grinned on his approach, nudging Matt with his bare foot as he arrived in an attempt to stifle the racket. Matt had a pair of lungs on him as it was, especially for the small frame that he had, let alone it being further amplified by the clearly generous intake of alcohol that night.  
  
Matt paused as he felt the jab of a toe in his ribs and he swung his head around to look up at the source, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Dom’s face.  
  
“Dom!!” he shouted, scrambling to get up.  
  
His legs fumbled awkwardly underneath him and he staggered and fell down again with a thud, bursting into laughter immediately afterward. Dom smiled despite himself, knowing Matt had clearly had way too much to drink and needed his help rather than laughter. Still, he’d always found Matt to be so much fun when he was drunk, even if he himself wasn’t; there was always so much silliness and carefree abandon to his attitude, it was infectious.  
  
Dom sat himself down next to a wobbly Matt, who was still attempting to stand but failing miserably. Once Matt realised he no longer had to get up, he fell back down in a heap, stretching out across Dom in the process. He flung his arms around Dom in an almost-choking embrace, before pulling away with a sloppy, drunken smile on his face.  
  
“Dom Dom Dom Dom Dom! S’you!!” he exclaimed happily. “I came t’see you and you’re here!”  
  
Dom laughed, noting the glazed, unfocused nature of Matt’s eyes and the way his breath reeked of alcohol as he spoke. Yep, he’d definitely had too much to drink.  
  
“You could’ve just called me, I would’ve come get you from…wherever you were,” Dom said gently.  
  
Matt grinned again, sliding his arm around Dom’s back and resting his head on his shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment.  
  
“I was at the bar, then the other bar, then the other one…but they kicked me out, fucking bastards,” Matt explained, slurring a little. “So I went back t’mine, had some of my red, and then came t’see you…and here I am!”  
  
He started laughing again, his body shaking against Dom’s as he snickered to himself, his fingers wandering to Dom’s belly to poke it gently. Dom squirmed, chuckling.  
  
“You walked all the way here after all that grog?” he asked. “That’s quite an effort, nice work.”  
  
Matt murmured, grinning, and he turned his head, his breaths hot on Dom’s skin in the cool night air. He closed his eyes again for a moment before opening them to look up at Dom, gaze relaxed and fuzzy.  
  
“Yeah, I know! S’cos I fucking rock,” Matt said matter-of-factly, snorting.  
  
Dom laughed.  
  
“If you don’t say so yourself.”  
  
“I do say so m’self, and y’know its true,” Matt giggled. “Cos I’m the fucking _shit_!”  
  
The last word he belted out at a high, operatic pitch, right in Dom’s ear, making him wince and pull away. At the retraction of Dom’s support, Matt’s body fell awkwardly onto the wooden decking, but he just shrugged and sprawled further out, stretching.  
  
“ _You’re just too good to be true, can’t keep my eyes off of you_ ,” Matt sang, his pitch still slightly off now and then. “ _You feel like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much_.”  
  
Dom smiled again, eyes wandering over the drunken, lithe figure; noting the crumpled black t-shirt that was half untucked from his jeans, and the dishevelled nature of the shaggy brown hair on one side of his head.  
  
“So you’re having a good night then, I take it?” he inquired. “Keeping yourself amused?”  
  
Matt tilted his head to look blearily at Dom, before a sloppy grin pasted itself back on his face, and he began giggling.  
  
“A _muse_ d, yeah. You said amused!” he snorted. “That’s us!”  
  
His head lolled as he spoke, eyelids drooping, and he clawed his way back up to a sitting position to lean on Dom’s shoulder. His long fingers became tangled in the hem of Dom’s shirt, the others grasping at the bottom of the drummer’s mussed blonde locks.  
  
“It is,” Dom replied, grinning.  
  
Matt’s cheek came to rest on his shoulder, and the fidget of fingers against the back of his neck made Dom slightly ticklish.  
  
“It’s stupid, but it’s funny,” Matt said with a slur. “Like you are, Dom. Stupid and funny.”  
  
Dom snorted and peered down at Matt’s face. He watched as black lashes fluttered against pale cheeks every now and then as the singer drifted in his drunken stupor, breathing shallow and erratic.  
  
“Take it easy,” Dom grinned. “I’m no more stupid than you, thanks.”  
  
Matt turned his head to rest his chin on Dom’s shoulder, his eyes still unfocused but open now. His clammy hand slid from Dom’s hair to wrap around the back of his neck, fingers splayed.  
  
“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant _good_ stupid, y’know? Acting like a prat, having a laugh,” Matt explained “Like we always do, you always do, because it’s fun. Because you’re fun.”  
  
“Oh yeah?” Dom asked, smiling wryly.  
  
“Yeah, absolutely. So much fun. You’re brilliant. I like pissing about with you. Or talking. Whatever it is, it’s good. Cos you are.”  
  
Dom felt his ears start to burn at this, unused to Matt being so openly complimentary to him. He turned his head to see Matt staring up at him with gentle blue eyes, a grin on his face.  
  
“Erm, you’re not so bad yourself,” Dom replied awkwardly, the jest evident in his tone.  
  
Matt straightened up a little, pressing his forehead to Dom’s and giggling.  
  
“I mean it.”  
  
“Okay,” Dom coughed, confused.  
  
“I _do_. I know I don’t say it, but I think you’re brilliant. Really brilliant,” Matt repeated. “Always have been. At pissing about, at drumming, at being my friend. At _everything_. You know that?”  
  
Before Dom knew what was happening, Matt had both hands wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling their faces together to crush his lips sloppily on Dom’s in a drunken kiss. A wet, alcohol-soaked tongue entered his mouth and began a messy, inept probe, while Dom sat frozen, tense and in shock for a moment. Matt tasted of stale red wine and cigarettes, and the kiss was both awful and baffling in equal measure.  
  
Pressing his hands against Matt’s chest and shoulder, Dom pushed him away to break the contact, his face immediately flushing with embarrassment and confusion in the dark.  
  
“Whoa, mate, I’m not Gaia,” Dom choked, blinking rapidly and grimacing.  
  
Matt sighed then giggled, falling back on one arm to regain his balance.  
  
“I _know_ that,” he replied, snorting and attempting to roll his eyes. “I’m only showing my appreciation for you, y’know. Cos I love you, mate.”  
  
Dom chuckled awkwardly, wiping the saliva off his mouth with the back of his hand, and flicked a glance up at the swaying brunette. Matt seemed entirely unperturbed by what he’d just done; the silly grin and merry demeanour he’d had since he’d arrived still present. Dom, on the other hand, found his head pounding with shock, and a strange, hot feeling gathered in his belly.  
  
“That’s lovely, but you could have just told me that instead of dribbling all over me,” Dom teased, his delivery not quite as sharp as usual.  
  
Matt rolled his eyes again, sniggering, and then rubbed his face with one hand.  
  
“Ah, what’s the big deal? It’s not like we haven’t snogged before,” he shrugged.  
  
“That’s different and you know it,” Dom informed him. “And… it was a long time ago.”  
  
He refused to let himself get drawn into those memories right then; it was late, he was tired, and didn’t have the energy to deal with it.  
  
Matt waved his hand dismissively, then reached over to trail the tips of his fingers clumsily down Dom’s flushed neck, heavy-lidded eyes tracking over the skin.  
  
“I was just saying. Just showing you. In case you didn’t know how fantastic you are. How fantastic _I_ think you are.”  
  
Dom opened his mouth to respond, but stopped as he watched Matt claw out a wobbly hand to steady himself, his face growing pale and then turning slightly green. He hiccupped, clutched his belly with one hand and closed his eyes, taking a few short breaths.  
  
“Ah shit,” Matt groaned. “Not good.”  
  
A sticky sweat began to break out over his skin, and he leaned forward to rest his arms on his knees. Dom knew this posture and expression well. He gave Matt’s back a light rub and then stood up.  
  
“I’ll get you some water, I’ll be right back,” Dom told him. “Take some deep breaths.”  
  
Matt’s only response was a pitiful groan.  
  
By the time Dom got back with a glass of water and a damp flannel, Matt was slumped at one end of the deck, head over the side, coughing and retching. He was sick as Dom sat down beside him, then he moaned again and started to whimper. His body was trembling, and Dom wiped down the back and sides of his neck with the cool cloth, making the hunched figure sigh. He rubbed Matt’s back again and pressed the glass into his wobbly hands as he sat up a little.  
  
“Can’t,” Matt whined. “I’ll be sick again.”  
  
“Trust me, it’ll help,” Dom insisted. “You need to rehydrate.”  
  
Matt reluctantly took a few sips and then returned to his former position of arms resting on knees. This time he let his head loll forward, putting it in his hands.  
  
Every now and then he would reach for the glass of water again and let out a shaky sigh. Dom continued to stroke along his clammy skin with the flannel, wiping it over his forehead and eyelids when he lifted his face.  
  
After a few minutes, the colour returned to Matt’s face and he gave Dom a wobbly smile.  
  
“Always feel better after doing that,” he murmured. “Am okay now.”  
  
Dom grinned wryly.  
  
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he replied, unconvinced. “I think you’d better head to bed though; sleep it off.”  
  
Matt stood on unsteady legs with Dom’s help, and the two of them moved slowly indoors, Dom’s arm wrapped around Matt’s narrow waist to support him. He guided the swaying figure to his bedroom and sat him down on the bed, the fingers of Matt’s left hand still clutching at Dom’s shirt.  
  
As the brunette allowed his body to relax, falling back on the mattress, he held fast to bring Dom tumbling with him, giggling. Dom found himself flopping atop the smaller man, their tangled legs preventing him from keeping himself upright.  
  
“Oof, ah, you silly bastard,” Dom complained, a smile playing on his lips. “Careful, or it’ll make you sick again.”  
  
“Nah, I’m alright now,” Matt informed him. “Just needed to throw up. And sleep will be good.”  
  
Clambering off him, Dom leaned down to grab Matt’s legs and shift them up onto the bed, straightening him up. He began to slip off the singer’s shoes and socks, throwing them beside the bed. At the sensation of someone touching his feet, Matt stirred groggily and pulled them away, making soft grumbling noises.  
  
“What’re you doing?” he slurred.  
  
“Taking your shoes off so you don’t ruin my bed,” Dom replied. “And don’t get overheated. You should take your shirt off as well or you’ll feel even more like shit in the morning.”  
  
With his eyes fluttering shut again, Matt waved vaguely and shook his head.  
  
“Nah, doesn’t matter.”  
  
“Come on mate, you can’t go to bed like this,” Dom persisted. “Get your kit off or you’ll sweat like hell in this weather.”  
  
Matt started giggling and opened one eye a crack.  
  
“Stop trying to seduce me,” he grinned.  
  
Dom rolled his eyes and sighed, leaning forward on the bed to begin pushing Matt’s t-shirt up over his soft belly. Matt’s high-pitched giggle continued, and his eyes opened a little wider to gaze at Dom while he set to work.  
  
“That’s sexual harassment,” Matt murmured, as Dom shoved the fabric up over his bony ribs to under armpits and collarbone.  
  
Giving Matt another amused smile, he found his cheeks heating at the comments, despite being unbothered by similar perverted remarks in the past.  
  
He lifted Matt’s shoulders up to pull the tee over his head, and threw it on the growing pile of things beside the bed. When he began to fiddle with the fly of Matt’s jeans, his diminutive bandmate erupted into giggles again and arched his pelvis up off the bed.  
  
“While you’re down there...” he slurred, his voice husky.  
  
Dom yanked Matt’s trousers down and then gave him a light slap between the legs, snorting.  
  
“Be quiet you filthy bugger,” he replied.  
  
“Ow! Ah, my bollocks!” Matt yelped. “I need those!”  
  
“Next time I’ll use my fist,” Dom told him with a grin.  
  
Matt grumbled and slipped a hand down to rub absently at his injured body parts, Dom’s eyes flicking over his form in the dark. He pulled Matt’s jeans the rest of the way off and pushed the bedcovers down to drape the singer in the single cotton sheet. He reached up to brush Matt’s hair from his face; the brown locks now stuck to his sweaty skin around his temples and across his forehead. Eyes still closed, Matt grinned sloppily and let out a contented hum.  
  
“I’ll put some more water beside your bed, and get you a bucket just in case,” Dom said, leaning over his amply drunken friend.  
  
Matt opened his eyes again and lifted a hand to tug at wisps of the drummer’s blonde hair.  
  
“Thanks mate,” he murmured. “Love you, yeah?”  
  
Dom felt a strange sensation in his belly again, but smiled and ignored it, patting Matt’s chest.  
  
“Yeah, I know; me too. No-one else would put up with this shit,” he teased gently.  
  
Dom stood up from the bed, watching Matt’s eyelids flutter shut as he laughed, then headed out for some fresh water.  
  
* * *  
  
Late the next morning, Dom heard the rushing water of the en-suite shower start, indicating Matt had finally emerged from his bed in an attempt to face the day. Dom took the opportunity to fish out some fresh clothes from his bedroom for Matt to borrow, given the likely unholy state of his outfit from the night before.  
  
He’d nipped in earlier, around eight am, to pilfer clothes for himself, finding Matt completely unconscious and snoring unevenly. He was not normally a snorer; a decade’s worth of tour bus sharing had taught Dom that, but heavy drinking often induced it in him. Fortunately, he’d barely heard it from his position on the couch that night, and had managed to steal a reasonable few hours sleep after Matt’s invasion.  
  
Shutting the door to his bedroom again, Dom headed to the kitchen and put the kettle on before setting about making some sandwiches. He poured a small glass of juice for Matt and set a packet of paracetamol down next to it on the bench. He then threw a teabag into an empty mug, and, seeing the kettle had finished boiling, poured the water in to let it brew.  
  
A couple of minutes later, as Dom was eating his sandwich at the bench, Matt emerged slowly from the bedroom looking pale and sheepish. His hair was still wet and mussed from the shower, and he was wearing Dom’s shirt and shorts, his feet bare. He padded cautiously toward the kitchen, looking up to give Dom a weak smile.  
  
“Morning,” Dom said.  
  
“Morning,” Matt croaked.  
  
“I’ve poured you a cuppa, but there’s some juice and painkillers there for you to start with,” he explained. “And if you can stomach it, a couple of sandwiches.”  
  
Matt blanched, but approached the bench to claim his drink and pills.  
  
“Food’s not a good idea right now,” he said quietly.  
  
He shuffled over to the couch and, with much caution and wincing, settled himself down on the cushions. After a few minutes, he’d taken his paracetamol and finished up his juice, and some colour had begun to return to his cheeks.  
  
He let out a sigh and rubbed a hand over his face slowly. Dom grabbed the mug of tea and sat down next to him, pressing it between his shaking hands.  
  
“Here.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
They sat in silence for some time before Matt could bring himself to speak again.  
  
“About last night; I wasn’t planning on getting that pissed,” he said softly. “Thanks for looking after me. And for your bed. And clothes.”  
  
Dom shrugged, reaching over to rub his shoulder while he sipped his tea.  
  
“S’alright. You know that’s what I’m here for; to take care of your drunken arse,” he teased gently.  
  
Matt gave him a wobbly smile and closed his eyes for a few moments, his cup still held up to his mouth. He inhaled the soothing aroma before frowning slightly and looking back at Dom again.  
  
“I know I was a bit of a wanker to you, from what I remember,” Matt continued. “And that I, erm... I mean, we...”  
  
“You tried to snog my face off?” Dom offered, grinning in amusement.  
  
Matt nodded sheepishly.  
  
“Yeah. Sorry.”  
  
Dom chuckled, shrugging.  
  
“It’s fine,” he replied. “I just prefer kissing someone whose mouth doesn’t taste like an ashtray soaked in liquor.”  
  
Matt chuckled and then grimaced, one hand moving protectively to the muscles in his neck. He then looked over at Dom again, and his eyes flashed with mischief.  
  
“I’m still a good kisser though,” he muttered. “You have to admit that much.”  
  
Dom rolled his eyes and Matt started giggling, before halting to clutch his stomach and let out a groan.  
  
“Serves you right,” Dom chuckled


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt thinks Dom understands the way his mad mind works. Dom gets stuck watching Harry Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: There's a short exchange where the characters talk about objectification of underage girls. Nothing graphic but still Not Okay.

After Matt’s drunken incident at his villa, Dom started to keep a closer eye on his best friend. He encouraged Matt in his enthusiasm for watching _24_ , though he himself still wasn’t particularly interested in it; any chance to prevent Matt being alone for extended periods of time was something Dom wouldn’t pass up. He brought food over to Matt’s villa to prepare or cook for lunch and dinner, and sometimes breakfast when he ended up crashing on Matt’s settee. Which in itself was becoming a common occurrence.  
  
Dom would not volunteer to head back to his own villa because he didn’t like the thought of Matt being on his own and awake at night, and often the hour was sufficiently late that Matt would insist he stay over rather than cycle back in the dark. In a way, Dom knew it was a deliberate ploy on his own part to get Matt to keep him around, but felt only slightly guilty about the manipulation of his best friend. Matt was comfortable enough with him, and was a direct enough person that telling the drummer he needed time alone and wanted him to leave would not be something he’d hesitate to do.  
  
But the requests for solitude never came, and Dom fell once again into a comfortable routine of cycling, swimming, cooking and watching telly with Matt. If they hadn’t stayed up too late the night before, they’d rise early and cycle out to the east coast of the island to watch the sun come up, a packed breakfast of fresh fruit and thermos of tea in their bag. Dom was used to seeing ridiculous hours of the day and night all over the world due to their touring, but sitting out on the beach on those early mornings with Matt felt incredibly different. They didn’t have anywhere they needed to rush off to, or worry about stealing a few precious hours of sleep before a gig or interviews the next day; it was just the two of them sprawled out on the cool sand in companionable silence as the sun crept its way over the horizon.  
  
The pale yellow and orange rays of light spilled their way onto the calm expanse of ocean before them, illuminating crests of gentle waves and creating muted shadows from the small palms dotted along the shoreline. The only sounds came from the soft lap of the water on the sand, the rustle of a slow morning breeze, and the occasional crunch of a piece of fruit as Matt savoured his breakfast. It was times like this that Dom felt his mind crawling at a snail’s pace again, and it allowed his body to fill with a weightless contentment that was becoming increasingly familiar the longer he was on the island.  
  
Early mornings were usually followed by a swim or a snorkel at the same beach, or back over at Blue Haven Bay; a location that was fast becoming a favourite spot for the two of them to escape to. The beach itself wasn’t particularly different in any way to the rest of the island, but the raised slopes of the hills around it and the subsequent close proximity of the vegetation to the shore gave it a unique and secluded feel that Dom was drawn to. They’d come across other people there only a handful of times during their entire visit, and it was often just couples attempting to share private moments away from prying eyes.  
  
On one particular occasion, a noticeably passionate pair was getting very intimate in the shallows further up the beach, apparently oblivious to Dom and Matt eating lunch in full view of what they were doing. Well, Dom figured they were either so caught up in their interaction that they didn’t see them, or they simply didn’t care. Dom hadn’t noticed them at first, and his attention was only drawn to their activities when he heard Matt giggle and felt him nudge him in the ribs with his elbow.  
  
He knew it was perverse to watch them having sex, but couldn’t tear his eyes away once he’d seen it, and apparently neither could Matt. It went on for a good few minutes, and Dom felt the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck begin to stand on end as his skin started to heat all over. He knew there was probably a flush in his cheeks as well, and he bit his lip as he attempted to keep the hunger in his body in check.  
  
He glanced over to see Matt’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly, eyes glued to the scene playing out in front of them, and noticed the way Matt’s fingers fidgeted at his earlobe and the ends of his hair. The singer shifted as the couple’s motions quickened, and drew his knees up to his chest in what Dom could only guess was an attempt to hide just how much he was being affected. Dom didn’t blame him; he himself struggling with the possibility of tenting his shorts, and was relieved when a quiet cry echoed down the beach and the pair collapsed with exhaustion.  
  
As Matt turned his head back to look at Dom, the drummer was met with an unexpectedly heated gaze and the curl of an embarrassed but impish smile on thin lips.  
  
“Not the worst thing to see on a Wednesday afternoon,” Matt murmured, his tone thick.  
  
“No, definitely not.”  
  
Dom found a mischievous grin pulling at the sides of his mouth, and he rubbed at the side of his swimming trunks with the heel of his hand. He didn’t know what else to say, feeling entirely too close to Matt for the sensations running through his body, and his mind numbed by the sparks of arousal.  
  
“Do you miss it?”  
  
Dom looked over as Matt spoke again, motioning to the couple down the beach.  
  
“What? Sex?”  
  
“No, not that. Well, yeah, that, but not just that. I mean, sex with emotion. Meaningful fucks.”  
  
Dom chuckled.  
  
“Well, it’s not exactly a ‘fuck’ if it’s meaningful.”  
  
“You know what I mean,” Matt said dryly. “Having something that isn’t only about the physical sensation; something that hits you inside too. You miss that?”  
  
“Yeah, of course I do. It’s been a while since me and Jess have had that connection, even when we were sleeping together more frequently.”  
  
“Yeah. Same with Gaia.”  
  
“I thought you were shagging a lot though?”  
  
“We were, but we didn’t have that connection either. The sex was great, fantastic in fact, but there were times where I felt like I wasn’t there; my head and my heart were just gone while my body enjoyed itself.”  
  
“Do you think it was the same for Gaia too?”  
  
“I’m not sure. Towards the end there, I think she was definitely switching off some of the time, or at least deliberately losing herself in the physicality to avoid real intimacy with me.”  
  
“Sounds rough. Sorry mate.”  
  
“No, it’s okay. And I don’t blame her. I think it was my fault anyway; she could probably sense me spacing out in the first place, and figured it would hurt less if she did it too.”  
  
Dom nodded, falling silent and letting the words wash over him, the harsh truth in them hitting close to home and making his stomach knot. Matt now allowed his knees to slide down a little and he let out a sigh.  
  
“I do miss it; the love-making,” Dom said softly, smiling slightly as Matt snickered at his wording. “I know we’re supposed to be these great big rock stars and think _yeah it’s fucking great, I get to sleep with all these women and not have to commit to any of them_ , but I’m not like that. Not anymore, anyway.”  
  
Surprisingly, Matt didn’t pull out any of the usual sly comments, and simply let him continue.  
  
“It was good when we were kids, don’t get me wrong; I had the best fucking time of my life with the drugs, the drink and the women, of course I did,” Dom explained. “And we had so many people around us then, so many friends and people to party with, I didn’t need anything else. But now I do. I need to _have_ more, _feel_ more. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. It’s like there’s this empty space in me now, like... erm...”  
  
“Like there’s something missing?” Matt offered.  
  
Dom nodded, smiling a little. He knew it shouldn’t be a surprise that Matt could practically read his mind.  
  
“Yeah, I get that,” Matt continued. “That was part of the problem I think, with me and Gaia. Something inside me changed; I wasn’t the same person I used to be, and felt really weird and empty a lot of the time. Like there was a piece of the puzzle missing, either in me or just generally in our relationship, y’know?”  
  
“But I assume that’s not all gone away now that you’re not with her?” Dom asked tentatively. “You’re still weird and fucked up inside?”  
  
Matt lay back on his towel and then turned slightly to face Dom, resting his head on his arm.  
  
“Yeah. It didn’t fix anything, breaking up with her. I didn’t expect it to,” he replied. “But at least I don’t have to fucking explain myself to anyone all the time now. I can just live with my own fucked up shit and not worry about it.”  
  
“Except that you’re explaining it to me right now,” Dom pointed out, smiling wryly.  
  
“You don’t count.”  
  
Dom snorted, and Matt grinned.  
  
“You know what I mean,” the brunette said, his tone softer now. “I don’t _need_ to explain everything to you, really. I can say things and not have to spell everything out or analyse it, because you already understand.”  
  
Dom chuckled, turning over to lie on his front on his towel, his face toward Matt.  
  
“You think I understand you, eh?” he grinned. “I don’t know about that. I really have no idea what goes on in that head of yours sometimes.”  
  
Matt grinned, raking his fingers idly through his hair.  
  
“You do, you know,” he insisted. “It might be something crazy or filthy or whatever, but you never ask me to justify myself or have it make sense. You know me better than anyone else, and don’t expect anything from me. I love that.”  
  
A prickle of warmth ran across Dom’s skin at Matt’s words, and settled in his belly as a comforting glow, his grin now firmly in place. It was pleasing that Matt was finally starting to open up to him, especially in regards to Gaia, and that he too felt they shared a bond that was different to their other friendships. It was a sign that perhaps Matt wanted to restore their close relationship, like he did.  
  
“Well, it will always be like that,” Dom said. “I wouldn’t want you to be anything other than what you already are; I like you that way.”  
  
Dom was surprised when Matt’s cheeks flushed at his comments, and he rubbed at his nose with sweaty fingers. He then licked his lips and levelled a serious gaze at the drummer.  
  
“So what if I end up being different because of this fucked up shit in my head?” he asked. “I don’t think I’m the same person I was before, I told you that. And if I do end up sorting all this out, what if what I become is something weird? What if it’s something shit and irritating? Something... something you don’t like?”  
  
Dom’s eyes widened slightly at Matt’s implication, and he propped himself up on his elbows before reaching over to lay a hand on Matt’s shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze and threw him a comforting smile.  
  
“Don’t be fucking ridiculous,” he informed him firmly. “I’ll like you whether you’re exactly the same for the rest of your life, or having mid-life crises every six months and acting like a drama queen. It won’t matter; you’ll be the same person deep down inside.”  
  
Throwing caution to the wind, and ignoring any worries he had about Matt recoiling from him in discomfort, Dom slipped his hand across Matt’s shoulder and onto the side of his neck, cradling it affectionately with his palm and fingers. Matt needed this sort of attention, whether he bloody knew it or not, and if Dom had to take a blow to his ego in forcing it upon his slight best friend, then so be it.  
  
Matt did seem to tense for a moment, clearly unsure and bewildered at this sort of tenderness, and his piercing blue eyes studied Dom curiously. But then he relaxed into it, swallowing slowly and lifting a hand to wrap long fingers around Dom’s wrist, holding on gratefully. He gave Dom a small, warm smile, his eyes now tracking over the features of Dom’s face.  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
It was only one word, but its heartfelt tone spoke volumes, and Dom’s face split into a grin.  
  
Open conversations occurred more often than not on those early mornings, with Matt seemingly hesitant to speak his mind on personal issues late at night. Instead, evenings continued to be spent on light-hearted activities of listening to music or DVD watching, though some nights Dom had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at Matt’s choice of viewing. Harry Potter had been a favourite in the last past week, and Dom found his eyelids drooping one night as they sat through _Order of the Phoenix_.  
  
It wasn’t that he didn’t like Harry Potter; the first couple of movies were great, but the series had started to drag a little in the middle, and Dom was beginning to lose interest. However, Matt found the movies infinitely amazing and still claimed them to be better than _The Lord of the Rings,_ much to Dom’s disgust.  
  
Dom suggested that the only reason Matt thought that was because he secretly fancied Emma Watson, and didn’t like Liv Tyler.  
  
“That’s creepy, that is; Emma’s just a kid,” Matt said in horror.  
  
Dom shrugged and snorted a laugh.  
  
“I just figured, since you seem to like difficult women, and Hermione’s a bit of a pain in the arse...” he grinned. “Besides, she’s over eighteen now.”  
  
Matt giggled, rubbing at his eye with one finger, but still shook his head.  
  
“But she wasn’t _then_ ,” he said, motioning to the screen. “I’m not a bloody paedophile.”  
  
Dom cocked an eyebrow, tongue pressed in his cheek.  
  
“I’ve seen the way you look at some of our fans, mate,” Dom said. “A lot of those blondes are underage, you know. What’s the difference?”  
  
Matt pouted but didn’t reply.  
  
Some minutes later, Dom once again found himself struggling to stay awake. He wasn’t particularly invested in the story, and Matt’s shoulder was surprisingly comfortable under his head. A strange hum of warmth began to wrap itself around Dom as his body relaxed, starting from his sock-covered feet that were propped up on the chaise, and gradually making its way up his legs and belly. As it reached his chest, Dom took in a deep breath, the soft smell of coconut from Matt filling his nostrils, and he allowed his eyelids to flutter slowly for a few moments. The contentment rose further to finally envelope his shoulders, neck and head, and an involuntary sigh fell from his lips in response.  
  
Allowing himself to slouch down further on the settee and into Matt’s side, he closed his eyes to rest them. He needed a snooze for just a few minutes, he told himself.  
  
The next thing he knew he was opening his eyes to daylight streaming in through the navy canvas blinds, and a gentle warmth gathering in the room from outside. Dom blinked sleepily and shifted to find himself sprawled half across Matt’s body and shoulder, clearly sleeping the entire night in the position he’d dozed off in.  
  
There was a yawn and a wiggle from the man next to him, and Dom removed his hand from its place over Matt’s belly, sitting up awkwardly.  
  
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Kind of snoozed a bit more than I thought I would. You should’ve woken me; I’d have gone back to mine.”  
  
Matt waved his hand dismissively and then stretched, his crumpled tee riding up his stomach and back arching as he did so.  
  
“Nah, s’alright. You looked comfortable,” Matt remarked. “And this settee’s alright to sleep on actually.”  
  
Dom nodded, throwing Matt a sleepy smile.  
  
“Yeah, I’m getting used to it,” he said. “Your shoulder’s not bad though either.”  
  
Matt scratched at his ruffled hair, and then rubbed at one eye with the heel of his palm.  
  
“Well, _that_ you can forget about getting used to,” he replied with a grin. “Don’t want you dribbling on my shoulder or anything because you’re so relaxed.”  
  
Dom chuckled.  
  
Their lazy awakening soon turned into a long, late breakfast, followed by a generally languorous morning of doing not very much. The day was bright and warm, and Dom dressed in one of Matt’s t-shirts and a pair of his own shorts that he’d left there.  
  
Some of his clothes had mysteriously begun to migrate to Matt’s villa, along with a spare toothbrush and other toiletries; Matt complaining that his “gay” body products were invading his bathroom. Still, they hadn’t been thrown out yet, and Dom had a sneaking suspicion that Matt was secretly using them too.  
  
Dom was reclining on the settee with an iced tea he’d thrown together earlier, when his phone vibrated and started to ring on the coffee table. Matt looked over from his slouched position on the beanbag, Manson in his lap he’d had shipped over the previous week.  
  
Dom looked at the display but it was an unknown number.  
  
“Hello...?” he said, pressing it to his ear.  
  
“Hey Dom, it’s Jess.”  
  
Dom’s stomach dropped at the sound of her voice. All the worries that had ebbed away over the last few weeks suddenly came rushing back, filling his head and making his shoulders tighten.  
  
“Oh, hey. How’s it going?”  
  
Matt was watching him curiously during the exchange, evidently aware of the shift in demeanour of his best friend.  
  
“Yeah, pretty good...”  
  
There was an awkward silence for a moment, not just from the international delay, and Dom heard Jess take in a deep breath. That was never a good sign.  
  
“Um, I was wondering, are you still down in the Caribbean?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Well... would you mind coming back up to London for a couple of days?” she asked. “I wanted... I wanted to catch up... talk, y’know... if that’s alright.”  
  
Dom didn’t need spelling out what she really meant by that. His heart drummed in his ears, racing, and he felt his chest growing tight as the reality he’d been trying to shut out for weeks came crashing back in on him.  
  
Still, there wasn’t much he could do but accept his fate.  
  
“Sure, I’ll see if I can get a charter out to Barbados as soon as possible, and then fly to Heathrow this afternoon,” he said slowly. “Probably won’t get in until early tomorrow.”  
  
“That’s okay. I’ll come around your flat about lunchtime tomorrow then, alright?”  
  
“Yeah, sounds good.”  
  
“Alright, see you then, hon.”  
  
“See ya, babe.”  
  
“Bye.”  
  
Matt was burning holes in him with his piercing blue eyes as Dom hung up the phone, clearly interested in what had gone on.  
  
“Flying home to see Jess, then?” Matt inquired.  
  
There was a strange tone in his voice that Dom didn’t recognise. The drummer took a sip of his iced tea, and quickly dismissed it. He had enough to think about as it was, without worrying what was on Matt’s mind.  
  
“Yeah,” he replied with a sigh. “I think this is it, mate.”  
  
Matt furrowed his brow, pausing his idle strumming of the Manson.  
  
“What’s _it_?”  
  
“This trip; it’s the end.”  
  
“Oh... of you and Jess? Is that what you mean?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Shit. Bollocks. Sorry, eh?” Matt said, grimacing.  
  
They were silent for a few moments, and Matt allowed his guitar to fall limply across his lap.  
  
“Maybe she just misses you...?” he suggested, chewing on his lip.  
  
Even Matt didn’t sound like he believed that. Dom threw him a grim smile and sat up on the settee.  
  
“Thanks. But it’s okay; I kind of knew it was only a matter of time.”  
  
He set his tea down on the table and reached for his phone again.  
  
“Well, I’d better call the hangar and see if they can get me out today,” he said with a sigh. “And see what time the flight back to London is.”  
  
Matt nodded, but didn’t add anything further.  
  
When Matt was at a loss for words, Dom knew then he should definitely be worried.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom returns to London to face the inevitable with Jess.

The flight back to England was much how Dom had imagined it would be; endless and nerve-wracking. He felt stuck in an uncomfortable limbo, knowing what was coming but unable to prevent it, and wishing it was over already. The waiting was driving him mad.  
  
He knew that it was this time he would remember about his break-up with Jess; the flight beforehand, and not the event itself. It was here that his emotions were being released, overwhelming him all at once, but still unable to be completely resolved because their relationship wasn’t technically at an end just yet.  
  
Dom would remember the harsh intensity of these emotions, and like victims of trauma, the seemingly mundane characteristics of his journey would be forever burned into his memory. The smell of the plane, the stuffiness of the cabin, the feel of the seat fabric under his fingers, the bright blonde locks and cheery smile of the flight attendant; these were the things that would come back to him when he thought of how it ended with Jess.  
  
*  
  
When Dom got back to the flat, the first hints of muted morning light were beginning to suffuse the sky, but he headed straight for bed. As expected, he’d been unable to sleep at all on the plane, but thought he should at least try to get some shut-eye before Jess got there. Surprisingly, as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.  
  
He only stirred from sleep a number of hours later, just before midday. He felt better, though his head still ticked over with nervousness and foreboding. He showered, dressed, and then headed to the kitchen to see if there was anything left in the cupboards. There were a few canned goods, coffee, tea bags, and fortunately for Dom, several small packets of long life milk. He was not in the mood to face the world and buy milk just yet.  
  
He made himself a cup of tea and sat at the breakfast counter, fingers wrapped around the warm mug, sipping it slowly.  
  
About half an hour later there was a knock at the door, and he jumped involuntarily. He flicked off the telly, glad in a way to be torn from the utter drivel of the pay TV news channels, and headed for the door.  
  
As he opened the door and invited Jess in, he noted the way her smile seemed less than bright and her kiss hello to him was only on the cheek. She was dressed in a business suit, more tailored and expensive-looking than he remembered seeing her wear before, and he hair was shorter and darker. The difference in her was jarring to Dom.  
  
Jess asked him how his flight was, how the new music was coming, and he about her work and the state of affairs in his old homeland. After a couple of minutes they fell into an awkward silence, and Dom turned his back to set the empty tea mug on the kitchen sink.  
  
Jess cleared her throat.  
  
“Dom... I... I had a specific reason for asking you to come back,” she sighed.  
  
Dom swallowed, feeling his hands start to shake. He willed them to stop. He knew this was coming, he should already be prepared.  
  
“I know.”  
  
He heard the click of her heeled footsteps as she came around the kitchen counter and onto the tiled floor behind him. He felt her hand on the side of his arm, her fingertips soft against his skin.  
  
“I thought you might. Hopefully that means you’ll feel the same about this. About... us.”  
  
“That it’s not working.”  
  
Jess turned him gently to face her. Her eyes shone with suppressed tears. She nodded, and her hand went up to her mouth for a moment before she spoke again.  
  
“I’d thought we could give it a shot, fix things,” she said. “That if we really put the effort in, then it’d all work out and we could sustain a relationship like this. Like Chris and Kelly, and Matt and Gaia do.”  
  
Dom didn’t think it was the best time to mention Matt and Gaia’s failure in that regard. Jess sighed and leaned back against the counter, her manicured nails clicking on the marble surface.  
  
“But I can’t. I can’t do it anymore. I barely see you, and when I do, you still feel like you’re a thousand miles away,” she continued.  
  
Dom felt the irrational flare of his temper at this, and his jaw clenched instinctively.  
  
“You know what the tour schedules are like these days. I can’t just say I don’t feel like going when it’s all been booked,” he protested. “And you never want to come along anymore, anyway.”  
  
Jess pushed her fringe out of her eyes and exhaled slowly.  
  
“I know, I know. I don’t expect you to drop everything to be with me, or sacrifice your career in any way,” she explained. “I knew the life you had, and potentially would have, when I decided I wanted to be with you. It was my choice. And I thought I could cope; that I’d be okay with it and tag along on tour or just see you during breaks.”  
  
She bit her lip and turned her head away a little.  
  
“But I’m not okay with it. I need my own life, and someone here to share it with,” she admitted. “And I know it hasn’t been your choice, the way things turned out. I don’t blame you. Really. I just... I can’t be like this anymore. I need more than what we have.”  
  
Dom could see the tremble in her hand as she brought it up to her mouth again.  
  
“You need someone there for you,” he stated flatly. “Because I’m not.”  
  
She threw a hand up in exasperation before pressing it against her forehead, shutting her eyes for a moment.  
  
“I want to be able to come home from work and talk about my shit day, or have too many drinks with the girls and be picked up from the pub at one in the morning,” she said. “You know; the shit, boring stuff that normal people do. I want that because I’m selfish, and should never have expected it from you.”  
  
Dom was silent for a few moments, his head throbbing and a dull ache up the inside of his wrists.  
  
“Is there someone else?”  
  
It came out sounding petulant, though Dom hadn’t intended it to. His emotions were an unstoppable flood now; he couldn’t control them.  
  
Jess frowned, sighing.  
  
“No.”  
  
Then she swallowed and gestured weakly, shrugging.  
  
“Well, not really. But there could be, and that’s kind of the point,” she explained. “I feel like I’m in a holding pattern because our relationship isn’t going anywhere, but I’m unable to move on and start again. It’s not fair. On either of us.”  
  
Dom stepped out of the kitchen and over to the window, staring out at the bright glow of the midday sun. It hurt his eyes a little; the light reflecting off the glass of the nearby buildings.  
  
“Who is he?”  
  
Jess sighed again.  
  
“Dom...”  
  
“Just tell me.”  
  
“You don’t even know him—“  
  
“Tell me!” Dom snapped.  
  
Jess was quiet for a while, and Dom thought she might leave.  
  
“He’s one of Julie’s friends. Julie from work,” she said quietly. “I’ve known him a few months now, and we’ve seen each other quite a lot through dinner and drinks with everyone. But nothing’s gone on between us, I promise you, Dom. Nothing’s happened.”  
  
He heard her exhale shakily.  
  
“But I... I’m afraid that it might,” she said softly. “Which is why I needed you to come back. I couldn’t bear the thought of betraying you like that. I needed to be honest with you, and myself, and end this before anything happened.”  
  
Dom felt his fists clench, and he struggled for a few moments to contain the anger welling up inside him from the jealousy and hurt he felt. But then it passed, leaving the dull pain in his arms again and in the top of his stomach now too.  
  
He turned away from the window and folded his arms across his chest, looking down at the floor.  
  
“Well... I should get my flight back to Barbados sorted,” he said absently. “I think I can catch the flight out tonight and get back there for tomorrow morning. I’ll take the flat papers with me to sort out while I’m there too.”  
  
He looked up but could only stand Jess’s sympathetic, sorrowful gaze for a few moments. The sense of being pitied by her made him feel sick.  
  
“Dom...” she whispered, her tone pleading. “Please don’t be like that. We don’t need to figure out all that stuff straight away. It doesn’t matter.”  
  
“Yeah, it does. The flat is legally in your name too. I can get the realtor to draw up a new deed and I’ll sign it over to you, if you want.”  
  
Dom was surprised when Jess threw her hands up in annoyance.  
  
“Fucking hell, Dom—No!” she cried, her voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t want the flat. Shit, it’s practically yours anyway because I’m never down this way anymore. Just keep it.”  
  
Dom frowned and Jess sighed once more, pinching the bridge of her nose.  
  
“I’m not going to fight you for anything, okay?” she said in a soft voice. “I don’t want your money, property, or anything like that. I just want to be able to move on with my life, and for you to move on with yours. I still care about you, and want you to be okay.”  
  
Dom looked out the window again, his breath catching in his tightened chest.  
  
“I’ll be fine.”  
  
Jess stepped over to him, putting a hand on his folded arm and looking up into his face. He couldn’t meet her eyes.  
  
“I’ll call Chris for you; get him to come up for a bit,” she said. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”  
  
Dom flicked a glance down and then shook his head, unfolding his arms. Jess’s hand fell away.  
  
“No, it’s okay, I don’t need him.”  
  
Jess sighed and Dom finally yielded a little, allowing his fingers to reach out and touch her hand.  
  
“Really, please don’t,” he said more firmly. “I just... I just need to be on my own for a bit, yeah?”  
  
Jess seemed to relax slightly at the contact, and nodded, her eyes still tracking over his face.  
  
“Alright, but you should go see him soon, okay? He’s pretty good at this sort of thing.”  
  
She was right, he was, but Dom didn’t think he could cope with those big pitying brown eyes and suffocating hugs right now; it would just make him feel worse. He knew who he really needed to see to make everything feel a little less terrible.  
  
He flicked his gaze to the floor, fidgeting slightly.  
  
“Well, erm, I might get Matt to come see me soon actually. He’s in South America at the moment so it shouldn’t be too hard for him to pop over,” he lied.  
  
Jess raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly.  
  
“Matt...? I didn’t know he was good to talk to about these sorts of things.”  
  
“Well, he’s been getting better at the whole emotional connection thing recently. And actually listening too.”  
  
“Must be Gaia rubbing off on him.”  
  
Dom suppressed a wince at this.  
  
“Must be.”  
  
There was an awkward silence and Jess looked at her watch, biting her lip.  
  
“I don’t want to head off so soon, but I’ve actually got a meeting in an hour,” she admitted.  
  
Dom waved his hand dismissively before running the other through his hair.  
  
“It’s okay— go.”  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“I’m sure.”  
  
Jess retrieved her handbag from the counter and then stepped back over to Dom. She lifted a hand to cup his cheek and leaned in to press a slow, gentle kiss against his mouth. Dom’s hand came up instinctively to hold her waist, his eyelids fluttering shut.  
  
“I wish we could have made it,” she whispered as they broke apart, her voice shaking. “You were a lot of fun. I’ll miss you.”  
  
Dom’s throat was too thick with emotion to reply, so he just nodded.  
  
Then Jess drew away from him and headed out the door, leaving Dom standing alone in his empty flat.  
  
*  
  
Dom was woken from a heavy sleep by the fuzzy voice of the charter pilot over the speaker, letting him know they were about to land. Stretching, he put his seat up and fastened his seatbelt in preparation.  
  
His mouth felt horribly dry and there was a strange woolliness that lingered around the edges of his brain that wasn’t only to do with sleep. He knew it was from the sleeping tablets; they always did that to him. He’d managed to source some before he’d left Heathrow, and as a consequence had slept like the dead the entire way back, including the short leg from Barbados. Not that he really felt refreshed from it; those sort of sleeps simply seemed like unconsciousness and not at all natural.  
  
The small craft banked around the stretch of dirt that the runway consisted of, and Dom blinked as the pale, cool light of early morning filtered in through the window. He looked down to see the long shadows cast by the trees around the runway and the red, rusted tin of the hangar to one side of the strip. At first, Dom thought he was imagining things, but then was sure he could make out a lone, slim figure in the shadows beside it, before the plane turned around again and blocked his view. They began their descent.  
  
As the aircraft made its bumpy landing on the dirt, skimming closer and closer to the hangar, the solitary figure resolved into focus; thin, short and a slightly awkward stance, with dark, mussed up hair.  
  
It was Matt.  
  
The plane slowed to a stop and Dom unbuckled his belt, feeling a little baffled as he began to collect his belongings. He’d called Matt to tell him he was coming back and Matt had clearly known what had happened from the serious tone of his voice. But Dom had neither asked nor expected Matt to meet him at the hangar because it was only a short walk back to his villa, and it was far too early in the morning for Matt to want to get up without Dom there to prod him into it.  
  
Yet here he was.  
  
Dom thanked the pilot as he hopped off the plane, slinging the strap of his bag over his head to carry the weight across his ribcage and shoulder. Arms folded over his chest, Matt made his way over as Dom stepped off the dirt of the runway toward the path near the hangar. The drummer stopped as he reached his best friend, Matt nodding hello and giving him a small smile.  
  
“Alright?”  
  
Matt’s voice was thick and scratchy with sleep.  
  
Dom exhaled slowly and ran a hand through his messy hair, his eyes on Matt’s.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
There was a short silence and Dom shifted as Matt’s gaze penetrated him.  
  
Then the brunette stepped forward, and there were suddenly tight arms around Dom’s body, pulling him into a fierce hug. Dom yielded and allowed his arms to encircle Matt’s narrow waist, his face pressing instinctively into Matt’s neck and shoulder. He felt long fingers bunch in his hair at the back of his head, and Matt’s murmur was warm on the skin behind his ear.  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
It was at this that Dom felt tears prick against his eyelids, and the aching swell of emotion welled up in his chest and throat. He began to sob silently and tearlessly, his body shaking in the forceful embrace of the small frontman. Matt held him closer, grip tightening in his hair and digits of the other hand pressing against the back of Dom’s ribs.  
  
Matt had never been one for traditional consolation; Dom had not known him to coo soft words of comfort, or engage in soothing strokes along shoulders or faces. But Dom didn’t care. This was better.  
  
Matt said nothing and held him so tight that he thought his ribs might crack or maybe his hair would come out in Matt’s fingers. It convinced him that he was still there and the world hadn’t fallen apart; that there was someone solid to hold onto to stop him spiralling down into nothingness.  
  
After a minute, Dom managed to gain control of his breathing and loosened his arms from around Matt’s waist. Matt’s hand slipped from his hair, the other sliding down to his hip, and he pulled back to look Dom in the face.  
  
He, no doubt, looked like shit— skin blotchy and eyes red from his emotional release and lack of decent sleep, and hair not tended to in days. But Matt didn’t say anything about it, just lifted his free hand to grab Dom’s shoulder, blue eyes piercing him again.  
  
“Alright?”  
  
Dom nodded, rubbing at one eye with his fingertips.  
  
“Should be eventually. Thanks.”  
  
Matt gave him a small smile and they turned to begin the short stroll to Dom’s villa. One of Matt’s hands found its way to the small of Dom’s back as they walked in silence, and remained there the entire time. Though slightly perplexed, Dom found it an immense comfort, and didn’t want to tell Matt to move it.  
  
So he didn’t.  
  
* * *  
  
The following days were difficult.  
  
Dom tried to keep in good spirits to avoid bringing Matt down, but he perpetually felt a dark shadow over him, draining his energy and clouding his moods. He knew he should feel relieved by all that had happened; the worry about his failing relationship that had been haunting him for months was finally gone, and he was free to do as he pleased.  
  
But it wasn’t that simple.  
  
Nearly all day he felt the dull ache of sadness and regret deep in his bones and pit of his stomach, it occasionally turning into a sharp pain of loss that overwhelmed him. Those times were usually late at night, and often when he’d been drinking in an attempt to stop all the thoughts in his head from driving him mad.  
  
Matt was always there then, as he was most nights, but never tried to stop him drowning his sorrows. Dom didn’t really expect him to; Matt wasn’t exactly the kind of person that encouraged sensible, non-self-destructive behaviour at any time, let alone during emotional hardship. He’d sometimes join the drummer, drinking his way to a state of frustrated swearing and kicking of inanimate objects before they both passed out together on Matt’s settee.  
  
But most of the time he’d just talk to him, and listen as the hurt and loneliness poured out from Dom’s intoxicated mouth, unbidden. And then hold him in silence, bony fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, as words turned to tears and Dom shook uncontrollably with sorrow. He hated those times. He was ashamed at falling apart so pathetically in front of Matt, but couldn’t seem to keep himself away from the drink or hold himself together when he’d ingested it. It was a sweet, guilty release.  
  
Dom apologised to Matt each time the following day, but the brunette always waved his hand dismissively and told him it didn’t matter. It was true, they’d done worse in front of each other, and to each other in the past. But that was years ago, and Dom didn’t remember any of it being this emotionally heavy. At thirty, he felt he shouldn’t be burdening Matt this way.  
  
Days turned into a week, and Dom was woken one morning on Matt’s settee by a soft poke in his ribs. He cracked an eyelid and was surprised to see Matt standing above him, wide awake and dressed for the day. Exhaling loudly and stretching, the tight binding sensation around his chest still present, he raised an eyebrow and yawned.  
  
“You’re up early.”  
  
Matt grinned.  
  
“It’s not that early.”  
  
Dom shrugged, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.  
  
“Early for _you_.”  
  
“Because there’s something I want to show you.”  
  
Dom sat up and threw him a sleepy, wry smile.  
  
“Oh God, not this again.”  
  
Matt gave the side of his head a gentle slap and giggled.  
  
“Shut up, git. It’s exciting this time, I promise,” he said. “I was going to wait a few weeks for the surprise but...” He paused, a strangely sad expression on his face for a moment. “I think now is a good time.”  
  
Dom shook his head in confusion, pushing the blanket off himself and swinging his legs over the cushions.  
  
“What the hell are you on about, Bellamy?”  
  
Matt gave him a mysterious smile and then walked back toward the kitchen.  
  
“Get dressed, get your bike, and I’ll show you.”  
  
*  
  
Reaching the crest of a hill on the west of the island, Matt slowed his pedalling and turned off onto a smaller track from the main road they were on. Dom followed him, still confused with no clue as to what Matt’s surprise was. The frontman was being a secretive little bastard and refused to give even the slightest hint as to what it was all about.  
  
The trees cleared a little as they coasted along further, and Dom hopped off his bike as Matt did, looking up to see a large, modern building coming into view. Matt stopped and turned his head to look at Dom, grinning.  
  
“What do you think?”  
  
Dom gave him a puzzled stare.  
  
“It’s a house.”  
  
Matt rolled his eyes.  
  
“No shit. But what do you reckon; it’s nice, eh?”  
  
Dom tracked his eyes over the outside and shrugged, still unsure of what the brunette was getting at.  
  
“Sure. It’s nice. So?”  
  
Matt threw his hands up in a flourish.  
  
“So; it’s mine.” Dom’s eyes widened, and Matt clarified. “Er, well, I’m leasing it. To have somewhere proper to stay while we’re here.”  
  
Dom felt his heart sink a little.  
  
“Oh, okay,” he said. “No more turning up drunk at my place at three in the morning, then?”  
  
Matt leaned over and gave him an affectionate shove in the arm.  
  
“It’s for you as well, you twat. It has two bedrooms, and a downstairs games room that I thought we could turn into a studio. Everything in one place instead of this pissing about back and forth between our villas and that studio.”  
  
Dom brightened. This was exciting; they could actually have somewhere to start doing serious work on the new album. And somewhere a little more permanent to stay, where they had less chance of annoying resort staff and guests. Not that Dom had been spending all that much time at his own villa lately; the staff at Matt’s resort knew him by sight now, and gave him bemused smiles when he turned up every day to visit, or the two of them returned from the markets together with arms full of groceries.  
  
There was one pair of receptionists in particular that seemed to giggle to each other when he and Matt walked through the lobby together, and especially when Matt rested his hand on the back of Dom’s neck as they leaned over to order drinks at the bar. He had no idea what that was about. Possibly they were simply giddy Muse fans, but so far it had appeared that nobody on the island had even heard of their band.  
  
“Well, okay. Shit, it’s going to be a bit weird though,” Dom said. “We haven’t lived together in years.”  
  
Matt snickered and flashed Dom a cheeky chin, his fingers playing at the ends of his hair.  
  
“Think you can still stand me?”  
  
Dom returned the grin, the tight feeling that had been lingering in his chest the past week beginning to loosen.  
  
“Well, I have so far,” he replied.  
  
Matt pulled the door keys from his pocket, wheeling his bike toward the front of the house.  
  
“But for fuck’s sake, would you _please_ learn to pick up your own smelly socks?”  
  
Matt flicked his head back to give Dom a wink, giggling.  
  
“No promises.”  
  
Dom chuckled and followed Matt to the door.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys move in to their new abode, and try to work out where they stand with each other. They get a few surprises when they start to discuss what they want in life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably should have been more than one chapter but it was originally posted as one due to the connected themes.

“It looks fucking empty.”  
  
Dom set the last of his bags down in the hall, eyes scanning over the large expanses of tan and coffee-coloured walls and the sparsely dotted furniture of the living and dining rooms. Even the kitchen looked huge, with only a small bar fridge in it and no appliances on the countertop except for an old kettle.  
  
“Yeah, I know, you don’t have to whine about it. It’s not my fault, actually. There’s nowhere to buy bloody furniture around here,” Matt informed him. “And you wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get things sent in. So much fucking red tape and forms to fill out. It was a pain in the arse just getting the Manson here, remember?”  
  
Dom exhaled a loud breath and wandered over to the lone settee, flopping down on it and kicking his shoes off. He set his feet upon the chaise and let his head fall back, closing his eyes for a moment.  
  
They’d managed to convince Matt’s resort to let them lease one of their spare couches, so the two of them would at least have somewhere to sit while they watched movies on their cheap, tiny telly.  
  
Dom cracked an eyelid as he felt Matt flop down beside him, or more accurately, half on top of him; the frontman’s bony arse and awkward limbs poking into him as he squeezed in next to the drummer.  
  
“Ah, fat prick,” Dom muttered.  
  
He opened his eyes to see Matt giving him a lazy V.  
  
“Am not fat.”  
  
Dom wriggled to place their bodies at a more comfortable angle, manoeuvring to allow Matt’s ankle to hook over his and their thighs to press together.  
  
“No, you’re not,” Dom conceded. “Just a bony little bugger.”  
  
The blonde let out a surprised yelp as he felt Matt lean over and bite playfully at his shoulder in retaliation, blue eyes flashing with mischief. It’d been a while since he remembered Matt acting this way with him.  
  
Over the weeks they’d been on the island, it was obvious Matt was becoming more comfortable, and returning to his old habits of shoving, tickling and slapping Dom in jest. But the biting, persistent hands on his neck and small of his back, that had caught the drummer off-guard over the last couple of days, were a different level of closeness altogether. It was something Dom remembered vividly from their late teens and early twenties, and had always chalked up to a phase they’d gone through that had now long since passed.  
  
But it seemed like Matt wanted to relive it, at least for the moment. Dom found he didn’t mind. Shit, he had to admit it was what he needed right now, the state his head and heart were in. The feel of Matt’s slim digits fidgeting on his lower back made the ache in his chest fade and the nervous tension in his head dissipate a little. It was nice; a pacifier to his worries.  
  
Collecting himself together and throwing Matt a grin, he returned the playful bite, but aimed it at the pale stretch of the singer’s throat instead. Matt giggled and squealed, swatting Dom away and body shuddering.  
  
“Fuck – don’t! That’s tickly,” he grunted.  
  
The two of them poked and prodded each other for a few minutes more before settling back down, Matt’s head coming to rest on Dom’s shoulder. They sat in silence for a while, watching the tops of the trees outside sway gently in the breeze, visible through the glass doors that led out to the balcony.  
  
When he’d first entered the property, it had become clear to Dom that it was a rich Westerner’s holiday house, but wasn’t quite the over-the-top monstrosity he’d expected. Technically, it was two-storey, but being built into the side of a hill meant the majority of the house was upstairs, with only the games room and a second bathroom on ‘ground’ level. There were two bedrooms, a large kitchen, combined open-plan dining and lounge areas, and another to the west that Dom had dubbed the ‘sun room’. He’d immediately decided it was his favourite room of the house.  
  
There was currently nothing in it; it was just a large expanse of deep cocoa carpet, floor to ceiling windows, and a set of French doors that opened out onto another small balcony. But the view, and the way the light splashed across the walls and floor in the late afternoon, made the whole space feel like something special. Dom had sworn Matt had been tapping into his thoughts when they’d stood in it together the first time.  
  
“I reckon my grand would fit nicely in here,” the brunette had murmured.  
  
Dom felt his skin prickle as Matt shifted his arm, his hand coming to rest casually over Dom’s, fingertips aligned over his knuckles. The drummer let out a quiet sigh as Matt began to slowly stroke the backs of his fingers, just grazing the skin up and down with warm digits. After a moment, Dom splayed his fingers and captured Matt’s between his own, curling down to interlace and hold them.  
  
He turned his head and pulled it back a little, watching as Matt tilted his face up too, his eyes meeting Dom’s. He wasn’t sure what Matt would do. Holding hands wasn’t something they usually did, even back when they were younger; it had only really happened when one of them had gone through something traumatic. Well, Dom figured this was one of those times.  
  
He flicked his glance down to their entwined fingers and then back up to Matt’s face. He couldn’t read it.  
  
“Tell me if this isn’t okay,” he said, Matt’s eyes boring into his own.  
  
Matt gave him a small smile.  
  
“Nah, it’s alright.”  
  
Dom rested his cheek against Matt’s forehead.  
  
“It’s just because of Jess and everything, y’know?” he continued. “I miss things, feel a bit empty. I need something to keep me grounded for a while.”  
  
He felt Matt smile against his jaw.  
  
“I know. I said it was okay, twat,” he said affectionately. “You don’t have to explain anything. I’m going through the same things, remember?”  
  
Dom coloured a little. He’d been so busy dealing with his own pain, he’d nearly forgotten about Matt’s. It wasn’t as fresh a wound as his own, but Matt usually took longer to deal with things. If he even decided to deal with them at all.  
  
“Oh, right. Yeah, sorry. I... I didn’t think.”  
  
Matt turned his head to rest it in the crook of Dom’s neck again, and squeezed his hand.  
  
“Stop worrying, for fuck’s sake,” Matt chuckled. “Just shut up and sit here with me, yeah?”  
  
Dom managed to crack a grin at that.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
He let his body relax and allowed his head to rest on Matt’s, a slow sigh exhaling from his lungs.  
  
* * *  
  
The house didn’t get much more furnished over the following fortnight, mostly because it was such an effort for Dom and Matt to get any of their own belongings shipped in. They did manage to organise a couple of beds, Dom’s drums, a few amps and some fancier cooking equipment, but large parts of the house remained sparsely decorated.  
  
Matt commented that he was quite enjoying the look, dubbing it ‘Spartan’. Dom knew Matt viewed it as some sort of survivalist challenge, apparently getting back to basics and living off the land. Though, somehow, Dom didn’t think residing in a posh, modern house in the Caribbean was particularly akin to a life of frugality. Still, he’d never been one to rain on Matt’s parade when it came to his life manifesto, so decided not to point it out to his dark-haired best friend.  
  
Besides, it was a lot less than they themselves had gotten used to over the last few years; with greater success had come greater excess and decadence, and Dom was aware of just how spoilt they’d become. He’d noticed it particularly when sleeping in one of the new beds for the first time; his body reminding him that the mattress was not as soft as he was used to, and that it lacked the piles of quality linen, duvets and pillows they were given at most hotels.  
  
Not that any of that really mattered here on the island, because warm nights made linen almost unnecessary and they never slept in their beds half the time anyway. Dom would frequently doze off during episodes of _24_ or long conspiracy-themed movies, and Matt hardly ever woke him to suggest they should head to bed. Instead, he’d just watch to the end, flick off the telly and then slouch down next to Dom, stretching his legs out on the chaise. Consequently, there was now a cotton sheet that had taken up permanent residence over one arm of the settee, for them to pull over themselves while they slept.  
  
Dom knew the arrangement wasn’t the best for his back or proper rest for his muscles, but he didn’t care. He liked the way Matt’s dozing snuffles would lull him to sleep, and if his hand found the singer’s in the night, it was rewarded with a reassuring squeeze. Just having Matt there was hugely comforting, and a weight off his mind.  
  
Though, the fade of worries about his own life gave way to concern about Matt. The brunette had barely spoken a word about his breakup with Gaia since Dom had split from Jess. And though Dom knew Matt wasn’t the kind of person to wear his heart on his sleeve, he’d still expected _something_. It was like Matt had shut off his suffering to the outside world while he helped Dom through his pain. And as supportive as that was, it wasn’t what Dom wanted.  
  
Matt had said Dom understood him and knew what was going on in his head most of the time, but at present, the drummer didn’t feel it at all. Sometimes he thought he saw pain or sadness flash in Matt’s eyes, but it was gone a moment later, covered by a deadpan comment or affectionate slap to the head.  
  
It was infuriating, and one day while they were down the beach, Dom decided he’d had enough and wasn’t going to keep quiet about it anymore. Bugger it if Matt didn’t respond well to direct personal questions; he couldn’t go on keeping it all bottled up.  
  
“Why don’t you talk to me about Gaia anymore?”  
  
There was silence from beside him for a moment as they floated in the shallows, sensing Matt becoming almost motionless, though the drummer’s eyes were directed skyward.  
  
“What?”  
  
Dom could hear the tension in Matt’s voice; a red flag that spoke of his unhappiness about the direction of the conversation. But Dom ignored it. He forged ahead regardless.  
  
“Your relationship and breakup with Gaia,” he explained. “You spoke to me about it a bit a few weeks ago but ever since things ended with me and Jess, you’ve said nothing.”  
  
He lifted his head further out the water and looked over to see Matt’s eyes staring up the beach, the muscles in his jaw tensing.  
  
“That’s because there’s nothing to talk about.”  
  
Dom paddled back a little and sat up on a sandbank, closer to his bandmate. His eyes tracked carefully over the slim figure.  
  
“I don’t think that’s entirely true,” Dom said after a moment. “You can’t have sorted everything out that quickly.”  
  
Matt looked over at him now, his brow knitted into a frown and mouth set in a hard line.  
  
“Well, your thoughts are wrong. I’ve dealt with all that shit; it’s in the past now.”  
  
Dom sighed, reaching out to rest his hand on Matt’s shoulder.  
  
“You can’t possibly be over it all already. You were together for years; you don’t just switch that off in a couple of weeks,” Dom persisted. “Besides, you said your head was still fucked up not that long ago, and you didn’t know who you were. You can’t tell me you’ve moved on from all that too?”  
  
Matt grimaced briefly and then frowned. He gave Dom a half-hearted scowl before standing up in the shallows.  
  
“Come on Dom, you know I don’t do the deep and meaningful crap, so just drop it, alright?” he muttered as he turned away.  
  
Dom jumped up and followed him as the slight man stalked back up to the dry sand where they’d left their belongings. He grabbed at Matt’s bony wrist before the brunette could reach down for his towel, making him turn his head.  
  
“That’s bollocks,” Dom stated bluntly. He watched as Matt’s eyebrows jumped in surprise. “You’re one of the most direct people I know, and have pretty much been nothing but honest with me all the years I’ve known you. You’re _always_ giving people too much information about your personal life and habits, so don’t try and tell me you don’t open up.”  
  
Exasperated, Matt grabbed at Dom’s other wrist and squeezed it roughly in retaliation, eyes flashing.  
  
“Yeah, when I _choose_ to,” he fired back. “I don’t want to be harassed with invasive questions about things that are nobody’s bloody business but mine.”  
  
Affronted, Dom stepped closer, his own frustration boiling over.  
  
“ _God_ Matt, I’m not some fucking nosey reporter trying to get a headline or deliberately rile you up. It’s my bloody business because you’re my bandmate and best friend,” he retorted. “All the states of anger, hurt and patheticness you’ve seen me in over the last few weeks, I think it’s only fair I expect at least something similar from you!”  
  
“I’m not about to break down and cry, if that’s what you want. Fucking forget it.”  
  
“That’s not what I want, and you know it. I just want something, _anything_! For fuck’s sake Matt, it’s _me_ you’re talking to.”  
  
Matt let go of him and jerked his arm away, throwing his hands up and shaking his head.  
  
“That’s the fucking problem; it’s cos it _is_ you!” Matt blurted out. “I can’t say it because it’s _you_ , Dom!”  
  
He made a noise of frustration and shame at his outburst, rubbing furiously at the back of his neck with one hand.  
  
Dom stood dumbfounded for a moment.  
  
Well, _this_ was new. He’d never known Matt to keep things like this from him specifically, _deliberately_ , out of what appeared to be fear. It made the drummer’s heart sink a little; it was clear he was out of touch with the kind of person Matt was these days, as he hadn’t even been aware of it.  
  
He threw Matt a puzzled gaze, stepping closer to him again.  
  
“You don’t trust me?” he asked.  
  
Matt shook his head, rubbing irritably at one eye.  
  
“No, of course I fucking trust you. I trust you more than anyone; with my life, even. Always have,” Matt snapped. There was a shake in his voice now. “But that’s what makes this hard; I don’t want anything to change that. I couldn’t bear to—”  
  
He cut himself off, turning away.  
  
Dom reached out a hand, touching Matt gently between the shoulder blades. The brunette jumped, his head down.  
  
“Bear to what?” Dom asked softly.  
  
“Bear to have you think of me differently.”  
  
Before Dom could reply, Matt turned back, his gaze steeled and posture hardened. He spoke quickly, wanting to get it all out at once.  
  
“I like how close we are again. It’s what I need right now. I like being on this island and living with you; not having to worry about any of the outside world bollocks,” Matt said more firmly. “I don’t want to do anything to fuck it up.”  
  
Dom frowned in confusion, his hand coming to rest on Matt’s forearm.  
  
“Why would talking to me about Gaia and what’s going on in your head fuck things up?” he asked.  
  
Matt rubbed at his nose, expression troubled.  
  
“I told you before, I’ve changed—”  
  
“And I told _you_ , I don’t give a fuck,” Dom interjected.  
  
“I know. But it’s hard for me to get that into my head when I feel so fucking paranoid,” he explained. “And you don’t know everything that’s happened; that’s the problem. Some of the things I’ve done. You might not like it.”  
  
Dom chuckled at this, dipping his head to look Matt in the face.  
  
“Matt. Please. Give me a little credit,” he grinned. “I’m not that easily shocked. You know that. Fuck, some of the things _I’ve_ done...”  
  
Matt gave a small, toothy smile.  
  
“ _Origin_ tour, Japan.”  
  
Dom nodded, grinning.  
  
“Yeah, exactly. And that’s only what I remember of it.”  
  
Matt giggled, eyes flashing.  
  
“I could hear your screams from the next room. Wondered if I should go in and stop them.”  
  
“It didn’t hurt _that_ much.”  
  
Matt raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Okay, it did,” Dom admitted, still smiling. “But I’ll try anything once.”  
  
Matt snorted.  
  
“You went back four more times!”  
  
Dom grinned sheepishly, shrugging.  
  
“The things you’ll do when you’re high.”  
  
“Oh, bollocks. You just _liked_ it.”  
  
“Yeah, maybe. Maybe I did.”  
  
Matt tittered with laughter, bringing his hand up to rub at his nose again. Dom’s expression turned serious and he stepped close to the brunette, resting his hand on Matt’s shoulder.  
  
“But that’s the point, remember? You didn’t and don’t care about that kind of thing, so why would I? We know and accept each other how we are.”  
  
Matt’s smile faded and he flicked his gaze away, frowning a little.  
  
“But you don’t know me; that’s what I’m trying to say.”  
  
Dom was silent for a moment, his chest twinging slightly with hurt.  
  
“Great. Thanks,” he replied resentfully.  
  
Matt sighed at Dom’s frown, reaching out to brush his fingertips along the side of the drummer’s hand. Dom pulled away from his touch bitterly.  
  
“Then what was all that the other week about me understanding you? You just making shit up for fun now, to fuck with me?”  
  
Matt grunted in frustration, turning away.  
  
“No, of course I fucking wasn’t. Despite what people think, I’m not a completely selfish arsehole,” he snapped. “I meant what I said. It’s just that that’s only one side of who I am. It’s not all of me and it’s not necessarily representative.”  
  
Dom rolled his eyes.  
  
“I’m not that fucking stupid, Matt. You think I don’t know that everyone has different personas they put on for different people and parts of their lives? Especially us – playing the media game,” he said. “I’m aware that knowing your brain runs at a hundred miles an hour and the sort of tangents it goes off on, doesn’t tell me everything about who you are. And just because you spend a lot of time with someone, doesn’t mean you know them deep down either.”  
  
“Well then, how can you think you really know me?” Matt asked. “In the domestic sense of living together, touring together; it’s true, you know me. But the person I am doesn’t come out entirely that way. There’s other ways of expressing and connecting—”  
  
“Through your music, you mean?” Dom interrupted. He sighed at Matt’s surprised expression. “Yes, I do actually listen to what you say in interviews, believe it or not,” he continued. “And I do pay attention to what your lyrics might mean and your compositions are saying.”  
  
Matt was quiet, and Dom shook his head, laughing bitterly.  
  
“It seems like it’s _you_ that doesn’t know _me_ if you think I’m that self-involved; that I’ve been ignoring my best friend’s emotional expressions for the last fifteen years!”  
  
Matt’s shoulders slumped and he reached down to shake the sand from his towel. He laid it flat on the ground and settled himself with a sigh, glancing up at Dom.  
  
“I just thought you wouldn’t be that interested in my stupid, fucked up internal dramas,” he said quietly. “Thought you were more just into the music itself and playing; not necessarily where it comes from in me.”  
  
Dom copied Matt’s actions, sitting down next to him and turning his head to look at the brunette.  
  
“Of course I’m interested. Always have been. Like you’ve said, it feels like a deeper connection to what you are.”  
  
Matt blinked owlishly.  
  
“And you want that?”  
  
Dom smiled, his eyes soft.  
  
“Why do you think I love _Hoodoo_ so much?”  
  
He watched Matt blush and swallow, his blue eyes flicking down to his fidgeting fingers.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah,” Dom confirmed. “I’ve always thought that song was like a big piece of your soul had been ripped out. It’s amazing.”  
  
Matt didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at his hands that wouldn’t keep still. Dom reached over and laid his fingers on top of Matt’s bony knuckles.  
  
“I’m pretty sure I know you, all sides of you, so don’t feel you can’t talk to me,” Dom said. “Whatever they are, these things you’ve done that you think are so fucking bad, or how you think you’ve changed – you can tell me. They won’t alter how I think of you. Or fuck things up here.”  
  
Matt shrugged, clearly unconvinced.  
  
“It’s just complicated.” The brunette blinked. He tried again. “I’m not ready to pour everything out yet—don’t know if I ever will be. It’s not easy for me, like it is for you. I can’t get the words to come out, y’know?”  
  
Dom smiled, removing his hand and sliding his arm around Matt’s warm back, fingers at his narrow waist.  
  
“That’s okay. I can wait.”  
  
Matt turned his head and gave Dom a small smile, before leaning closer to rest his chin on Dom’s shoulder.  
  
“And you might not like what comes out when I _do_ speak.”  
  
Dom looked down at the diminutive frontman’s face, a smile playing on his lips.  
  
“Matt,” he said with a sigh. “Shut up.”  
  
Matt’s toothy grin mirrored his own.  
  
* * *

A few days later they were sat out on the balcony in newly acquired deck chairs, lazing in the morning sun. The conversation had once again steered back to relationships, and Matt had decided it was time to give his expert opinion on Dom and Jess’s relationship. Not that Dom had asked for it. But that had never really stopped Matt in the past.  
  
“It wouldn’t have worked anyway.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“No, you know what I mean, Dom. You’re not that kind of person.”  
  
“Committed?”  
  
“Erm... yeah.”  
  
“Would you like a bigger spade for that hole you’re digging?”  
  
Matt sighed, shaking his head.  
  
“No, but I don’t mean that in a bad way. Birds love you. You don’t ever have to worry about being lonely, because they’ll be throwing themselves at you for the rest of your life.”  
  
“I think the same goes for you,” Dom pointed out.  
  
Matt smiled wryly.  
  
“Nah, it doesn’t actually. It’s only cos I’m not that wrinkly yet and the band’s doing well. When that’s gone, I’ll be best friends with my hand in my old age. But you won’t.”  
  
Dom raised an eyebrow and Matt shrugged, continuing.  
  
“There’s just a way you talk to people, interact with them, that holds their interest. It wouldn’t matter if you weren’t famous; that’s just a further advantage on top of what’s already there,” Matt explained. “When you’re with people, they’re just... erm, well... I don’t know how to explain it.”  
  
Dom grinned, poking a tongue in his cheek.  
  
“ _Captivated_ , is the word you’re looking for,” he deadpanned. “It’s my good looks and charm, y’know.”  
  
Matt giggled and messed with the hair at the side of his face.  
  
“Well... yeah, I guess it is.”  
  
Dom snorted, confused. He’d expected an onslaught of insults about his vanity from that.  
  
“Erm, I was joking, yeah?” he laughed.  
  
Matt grinned and shrugged again.  
  
“I know. Yeah, I know. But the bit about charm is true, I think.”  
  
Dom grinned wolfishly, watching Matt from under low lashes.  
  
“You think I’m charming?” he asked, his voice warm and rough.  
  
He thought he was seeing things when Matt blushed and rubbed at one eye with the heel of his hand.  
  
“Maybe,” he giggled.  
  
Clearing his throat and sitting up to break the strange atmosphere he felt, Dom shifted his gaze over to the treetops again and the view of the beach further below.  
  
“Fuck, what’s with the compliments? Am I dying and nobody told me?”  
  
Matt kicked him playfully with his bare foot.  
  
“Twat,” he said. “The point I was trying to make is that it’s not like you need to choose one woman and stick with it for fear you won’t get another. Because you will.”  
  
Dom shrugged.  
  
“That wasn’t why I was with Jess,” he said. “And I told you before, I’m not how I used to be when we were young; I want something more than just meaningless fucks.”  
  
“Yeah, I know. But it doesn’t mean you have to have the wife, kids, house, and a fucking dog,” Matt replied. He looked out at the ocean for a moment and then snorted. “Shit, can you imagine that? You, a doting husband with little blonde ratbags tearing around your ankles!”  
  
Dom was quiet, not laughing along with Matt, his eyes tracking over the gently fluttering leaves just below their balcony.  
  
“Yeah, why would I want that?” he muttered quietly.  
  
Matt stopped, sitting up straighter to look at him.  
  
“You want that?”  
  
He sounded genuinely surprised. It made Dom feel slightly sick.  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
He could feel Matt staring at him.  
  
“Really...? I never would have picked you for it.”  
  
Temper flaring, Dom turned back to Matt, giving him a hard stare.  
  
“Why? Because I’m the whorish drummer who only cares about shallow things like appearance and property, so why would I ever give a fuck about something like a family of my own?!”  
  
Matt didn’t flinch at this, just returned the hard stare with sharp blue eyes.  
  
“No – because in the nearly twenty years I’ve known you, you’ve never said a fucking word to indicate you had any interest in it.”  
  
His burst of anger vanishing, the deflated drummer looked at the arm of the deck chair he was sitting on, running a nail along the grain of the wood.  
  
“I’d never really thought about it much before.”  
  
“But now you’ve decided you want a normal life?”  
  
Dom smiled a little at this. Only Matt could talk about having a wife and kids and make it sound like an appalling idea.  
  
“Well, I don’t necessarily know that I want all of that, but I should probably start considering it,” he said slowly. “I’m in my thirties now; I can’t just keep pissing about with my life.”  
  
Matt frowned, shaking his head in confusion.  
  
“Our career is pissing about, is it?”  
  
Dom sighed.  
  
“You know what I mean. I need to think about settling down, growing up.”  
  
Matt let out a snort of derision.  
  
“You should fucking hear yourself, Dom. You sound brainwashed. You’ve been listening to too much consumerist wank.”  
  
Dom sighed.  
  
“I have not. And I do not.”  
  
“You do. You’re trying to fit yourself into the plastic-packaged, happy little life they sell you to keep you quiet and boring,” Matt continued. “Get a wife, buying a house, pop out some kids, consume as much as possible, and bore yourself into a comatose existence of so-called normalcy. And for fuck’s sake, don’t do anything reckless, outspoken, or interesting – don’t live the life you actually _want_.”  
  
Dom held his hand up, furrowing his brow.  
  
“Alright, Bellamy, enough of the anti-corporate spiel; I know this one. And you know I agree with you on most of it,” Dom interjected. “I didn’t say I wanted to _live_ that life. I was just thinking about what I want around me as I get older, and what I’m going to leave behind.”  
  
Matt made a face.  
  
“You want screaming, stinking, vomiting little horrors that you have to look after twenty-four hours a day for at least the next sixteen years?”  
  
Dom laughed at this, shaking his head.  
  
“This, coming from _you_ , who nearly had that life only a couple of months ago,” he pointed out.  
  
“I never had kids,” Matt corrected.  
  
“Not so far. But Gaia wanted them – at least six, didn’t she say?”  
  
Matt’s expression became troubled again.  
  
“Why do you think I got out?”  
  
An ill silence fell between them. Dom’s eyebrows went up.  
  
“Fuck. That’s a bit harsh.”  
  
Matt looked away, the muscles in his neck tensing.  
  
“Look, I didn’t mean—” He cut himself off, running a hand over his face. “Though, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? I’m not the warm and caring type, fit to look after children. Don’t think I’m cut out to be a dad.”  
  
Dom’s chest tightened at the twinge of sadness he heard in Matt’s voice. He didn’t know what to say, and silence descended between them again.  
  
This wasn’t something they’d really discussed before, even in regards to Matt. Fatherhood was something reserved for Chris, or a vague idea that had always been in the far-off future. But suddenly, the thought had hit Dom like a ton of bricks, and made him look at the world around him in a new light. Everyone else his age – and younger – were married, having kids, buying real estate, and generally getting on with things. Even if they didn’t have kids, they were still forming permanent bonds, and creating homes and social ritual.  
  
Dom wasn’t doing any of that. He just felt like he was drifting.  
  
“I don’t think people are necessarily born as natural parents,” he said finally, returning from his reverie. “You just learn as you go along.” He pressed his lips together for a moment before continuing. “And just because you don’t make a fuss of people, doesn’t mean you don’t care. You’re just honest. That’s a good thing.”  
  
Matt shrugged, biting his lip.  
  
“But, y’know, some people _do_ have that natural, erm, warmth, for taking care of kids and all that shit,” he explained. “I don’t have that.” He paused, but then carried on before Dom could argue. “Gaia used to say I wasn’t very good at expressing emotion and empathy. Makes me come off as arrogant and aloof.”  
  
Dom frowned.  
  
“Well, Gaia can shove it up her arse,” he said in exasperation.  
  
This drew a smile from Matt, and Dom chuckled.  
  
“I know she’s a psych, but there’s such a thing as overanalysing things,” Dom continued. “I know you, and I know you express emotion perfectly fine when you want to. It’s just that you don’t have to speak your mind on fucking everything, or explain it all the time. It’s usually easier saying things without words.”  
  
Matt’s smile drew wider at this.  
  
“Yeah, exactly. Though, nothing I did ever seemed to show that enough for her.”  
  
“Well, I’ve never had a problem with it, so it fucking _must_ be her,” Dom said with a grin.  
  
Matt looked slightly embarrassed by that.  
  
“Come on, Dom, she wasn’t that bad.”  
  
“I know,” he conceded. “It’s just that the problems you say she had with you never seemed like problems to me. Maybe she’ll just be happier with a more traditional bloke.”  
  
Matt snorted.  
  
“Yeah, she expected too much of me.”  
  
Dom shook his head, his smile softer now.  
  
“Nah, she expected the wrong thing from you. You’re verbal on some things and not others. It’s just shit luck you’re not verbal on the things she wanted you to be.”  
  
Matt quirked an eyebrow.  
  
“Such as...?”  
  
“Love. Affection.” Dom chuckled as Matt blushed and shifted in his seat. “See? Even just mentioning it, you get uncomfortable.”  
  
“I know. It feels weird to me. You know that.” He shrugged. “Though I’m not exactly physically expressive with those either. Gaia didn’t think I was publicly affectionate enough with her.”  
  
It was Dom’s turn to shrug.  
  
“I think she didn’t understand the subtleties of contact with you,” he said. “Just because you didn’t snog her face off or slap her arse every ten minutes doesn’t mean you didn’t care. Smaller gestures can mean more.” Dom paused, tipping his head to one side. “Well, I think they do.”  
  
Matt watched him for a few moments, an unreadable expression on his face, before looking away at the open blue sky.  
  
“Okay, you haven’t really ever said outright that you care about me, or hugged me to show me so,” Dom said slowly. “But I still know you do.”  
  
Matt appeared a little saddened by these words, his eyes going down to his fidgeting hands.  
  
“I’m sorry if I seem cold.”  
  
Dom shook his head, a small smile on his lips.  
  
“You don’t – that’s what I’m saying,” he explained. “I’ve never felt that, all the years I’ve known you. Even more recently when we weren’t as close, I could still tell you gave a shit.”  
  
He reached an arm across to Matt’s chair, his hand coming to rest over Matt’s and squeezing. The frontman spread his digits apart, allowing their fingers to lace, and squeezed back, giving Dom a smile.  
  
“I missed what we had, actually, during those times. I wanted to say something, spend more time as just us,” Matt admitted. “But I was – I don’t know – I got caught up in everything else, and thought you didn’t want to anyway.”  
  
“You never asked, never said anything,” Dom pointed out.  
  
“I know. It only occurred to me when we were already distant, and by then I thought it was too late.”  
  
Dom was silent for a few moments, just watching Matt. This was something he’d noticed had changed about Matt over the last ten years; his belief in what he deemed was socially appropriate and what wasn’t. When they were kids, Matt never cared what he should and shouldn’t be saying, and to whom. Consequences were never a big deal, and he certainly wouldn’t have kept his mouth shut about something because he thought it might be too late to bring it up. But now, he seemed much more cautious. Not afraid, necessarily, but maybe tired of having to explain or fight for his point with those he cared about.  
  
If Dom had to guess, he would say it was probably because of Gaia. Of course, she would never have asked Matt to change in that way. In fact, from what Matt had told him, she wanted the opposite. But because of persistent arguments and discussions with her over the years, it had likely got to the stage where Matt was simply worn out by it all – he’d given up. He was no longer confrontational with his loved ones because it was simply easier not to be.  
  
The notion struck Dom as backwards, counter-intuitive. He’d always believed that you should fight _harder_ to fix things, try _harder_ to explain things to those you cared about, because they were the ones who _mattered_.  
  
“I would never have thought it was too late,” Dom said. He squeezed Matt’s hand again. “Clearly, I don’t, given that we’re getting to know each other properly again. With people who are important to you, I don’t think it’s ever too late to strengthen ties or talk about issues.” Dom then tilted his head a little, winking. “Unless, of course, I’m not important.”  
  
Matt threw him a crooked smile, shaking his head.  
  
“Don’t be stupid.”  
  
Dom raised an eyebrow, curious. He wondered how much he could get out of his bandmate.  
  
“So, I am then?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Important. To you.”  
  
Matt shifted in his seat again, then scratched through his hair with the fingers of his free hand. He lifted his leg to rest one ankle over his knee.  
  
“Oh, come on. You know what I think.”  
  
Dom gave him a devilish smile, twisting in his seat to face him. He unlaced his fingers from Matt’s and turned the pale hand over, fingertips tracing over the pulse point.  
  
“Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t,” the drummer said coyly.  
  
A small, embarrassed smile appeared on Matt’s face, and he drew his hand away to fidget on his clothes.  
  
“Well, like you said, I don’t always say things outright, but you still know.”  
  
“Well, maybe you _should_ say things outright sometimes,” Dom prodded.  
  
“Yeah. I guess I should.”  
  
There was a brief silence, and Dom watched Matt expectantly.  
  
“Well...?”  
  
“What? Now?”  
  
“No time like the present.”  
  
Matt sighed.  
  
“ _Dom_...”  
  
“ _Matt_...” he mimicked.  
  
Matt made a grunting noise of frustration and rubbed at his face with both hands now. He sighed and glanced warily at Dom, his fingers still at his mouth.  
  
“You are,” Matt stated.  
  
Dom smiled, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“I’m what?”  
  
Matt’s brow furrowed and Dom had to suppress a laugh at his discomfort.  
  
“You are – important.”  
  
“To you?”  
  
Matt gave him a withering stare.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Say it then.”  
  
“You’re such a prat sometimes, you know.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
Dom waited, raising the other eyebrow. Matt pursed his lips and then licked at them.  
  
“You’re important – to me, Dom.”  
  
Dom’s grin grew wide and he shuffled his seat over, draping an arm around Matt’s neck. He pulled the brunette’s head toward him, ruffling his hair with his hand and then resting his chin there.  
  
“You’re important to me too,” he said brightly.  
  
Matt snorted a quiet chuckle and let his cheek press against Dom’s neck.  
  
“See. Was that so hard?” Dom asked.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
The drummer laughed, and felt Matt smile against him. They were quiet for a moment, watching the slow stir of the branches again, before Matt spoke.  
  
“I’ve always wondered how you do that, actually. You never seem to have a problem speaking about those things.”  
  
Dom tilted his head to look down at him.  
  
“What things?”  
  
Matt shrugged.  
  
“Y’know, emotions and all that bollocks. Such a girl like that.”  
  
“Take it easy.”  
  
Matt chuckled, and then paused.  
  
“I guess it’s good though; being honest and expressing yourself. People know exactly how you feel about them.”  
  
Dom grinned.  
  
“Well, I don’t remember _you_ ever having trouble telling people what you think of them.”  
  
“Yeah, but that’s really only with people that piss me off, or who aren’t family or friends. They don’t fucking matter. And it’s only about trivial stuff, anyway. You seem to – from what I can tell, anyway – you seem to be completely open.”  
  
Dom shrugged, slightly surprised at Matt’s perceptiveness.  
  
“Yeah, I guess I’ve always been that way. I find it easier I suppose, than pissing about hiding things.”  
  
“But with important things... that’s fucking scary though,” Matt said quietly.  
  
Dom knew he was talking about himself, and he slipped his fingers back into Matt’s hair, stroking gently.  
  
“Yeah, it can be.”  
  
Dom was aware he had more self-confidence than Matt. Despite all the posturing, showing off and fierce talk by the small frontman, Matt still remained quite insecure. Even after all these years, and especially so in relation to who he was and what he felt deep down. The media persona of Matt Bellamy of Muse could take any amount of critique and examination; the real, vulnerable Matt Bellamy could not.  
  
Dom had always felt the stark contrast with his best friend in that regard. He wondered if Matt wanted to change to become more emotionally honest. Clearly, he was capable of it when Dom really pushed him into it, but whether he could ever be truly comfortable being that open remained to be seen.  
  
“But I figure I’d rather know if someone doesn’t like the real me and what I feel, than pretend to be something I’m not. Simply to please a few supposed friends,” Dom said.  
  
“But what if those friends really matter to you and are a part of your life? It would hurt like hell if they left. Might fuck up your whole existence, even.”  
  
Dom shrugged slightly, his fingers coming up to stroke gently along Matt’s hairline.  
  
“I guess so. But life’s just painful sometimes. I’d rather hurt and learn, than be ignorant,” he explained. “Besides, the friends that _do_ matter would stick around.”  
  
Matt smiled slightly, and it was plain to Dom that the brunette was still alluding to his own personal worries. Though, it was clear he didn’t want to voice aloud explicitly those fears of abandonment.  
  
“So, you think they’d still be there – even if you turned out to be a nutter?”  
  
Dom chuckled and let his hand slide down to rest on Matt’s neck.  
  
“Yes, even then,” he replied. “It might take time to adjust and accept changes, but people are pretty reasonable and don’t just give up on their friends at the first sign of trouble.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
Dom nodded.  
  
“Yeah. Of course. They’ve known me, grown with me, pretty much seen all I am anyway over the years.” Then Dom turned his head a little to speak quietly into Matt’s dark locks, his breath warm. “They care about me, probably a lot more than I know, and wouldn’t throw away true friendship because of a few personality quirks.”  
  
Matt didn’t reply. His hand just reached over the arm of the chair to settle atop Dom’s forearm, squeezing slightly. Dom smiled and pressed a kiss into Matt’s hair.  
  
He heard Matt giggle and rolled his eyes.  
  
“Fairy.”  
  
Dom grinned, the comment expected.  
  
“Prude.”  
  
Matt laughed again, but didn’t move from his position. Dom closed his eyes and let his mind drift off in the warm sun.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom teaches Matt to dance. Matt gets bothered about sleeping on the settee.

Dom allowed his hips to wiggle slightly in rhythm as he stepped across the kitchen, music blasting from his travel speakers on the counter as he made breakfast. In reality, it wasn’t particularly loud because they weren’t built for it, which was probably a good thing since Matt was still asleep on the couch despite it being mid-morning.  
  
The drummer nodded his head along with the strong beat, pulling several pieces of fresh fruit from the fridge and then returning to the counter to cut them up. He piled them onto a plate, and picked a spoon up to stir the batter he’d prepared and set aside earlier.  
  
Dom began to sing along as a new song came on, moving his body even more as he fired up the cooktop. He pulled out a large frying pan and set it on the gas.  
  
“ _Work it. Make it. Do it. Makes us. Harder. Better. Faster. Stronger._ ”  
  
Reaching for the batter, he gave it another stir and then poured a little onto the pan he’d sprayed with cooking oil. His hips slid side to side as he quickly manoeuvred the frying pan to spread the batter across it in a thin layer, and then returned it to the heat to cook. He allowed himself to bounce, singing louder as the harder beat kicked in.  
  
“ _Work it harder, make it better, do it faster, makes us stronger. More than ever hour after, our work is never over._ ”  
  
Retrieving a large, thin spatula, Dom peeled up and flipped the pancake, then stepped away from the stove to pull more ingredients from the fridge. He prepared these while continuing to cook and pour more pancakes, stacking them on a plate with a tea towel over to keep them warm. All the while, he continued to dance and sing, allowing the rhythm to settle in his thighs and hips, shaking his arse along with the beat.  
  
“ _Work it harder, make it better, do it faster, makes us stronger._ ”  
  
He shifted his head and shoulders from side to side as the beat dropped a little, stirring together a white sauce in a saucepan. He threw in some fresh herbs and chopped mushrooms then checked back on the pancakes, flipping another one. The beat kicked back in and he danced around the kitchen, shifting back and forth between the stove tops and the chopping bench.  
  
Dom had just stuck a finger from the white sauce into his mouth, turning around while still shaking his bum, when he spotted Matt in the hall doorway. He hadn’t even seen him get up. Matt was leant against the frame, arms folded, watching Dom with a soft grin on his face. For a split second, Dom cringed with embarrassment, but then figured Matt had seen him in similar states and worse before, so had little to be ashamed of now.  
  
He sucked his finger clean with a pop and grinned at Matt, continuing to dance. Matt giggled and threw him a bemused look, scratching at his bed-mussed hair with long fingers.  
  
“What the fuck are you doing?”  
  
Spinning back around to check on the pancakes, he removed one from the pan and then poured the last of the batter in its place.  
  
“Making breakfast,” Dom replied.  
  
He sang along again, throwing his hips to one side and then the other on the heavy beats, head nodding. When he turned back, Matt had a smirk on his face, an eyebrow raised.  
  
“Sounds like you’re strangling a cat at the same time,” he said.  
  
Dom snorted and rolled his eyes, turning off both stovetops and sliding the last pancake from the pan. The song ended and another kick in, with equally strong beats and electronic style.  
  
“I never said I could sing. I leave that part up to you,” he replied. “But at least I can dance.”  
  
To prove the point, Dom boogied his way over to where Matt was standing and began to dance right in front of him. Matt raised an eyebrow again and unfolded his arms, watching Dom.  
  
“And you’re saying I can’t?” the brunette asked.  
  
Dom grinned.  
  
“Come on, mate. You _know_ you can’t.”  
  
Matt appeared slightly affronted for a moment, but then shrugged.  
  
“Yeah, alright, I can’t. Dancing’s for fags, anyway.”  
  
Dom snorted again, still shifting his hips back and forth to the music.  
  
“I’ll be sure to tell Usher that next time we see him then, shall I?”  
  
“That’s not really dancing. And that’s different anyway. He’s black.”  
  
Dom chuckled, raising his eyebrows.  
  
“Oh, nice. Racist as well. You’re such a tolerant person.”  
  
Matt snickered.  
  
“You know what I mean. If you make RnB, then I guess you’re allowed. But we don’t. Rock musicians aren’t meant to dance.”  
  
Dom shuffled his way from one side of Matt to the other, nodding his head along to the beat. He then grabbed the brunette by the shoulders and began urging him to move along to the music too. Matt threw him a curious look.  
  
“What are you doing?” he asked.  
  
“Getting you to dance.”  
  
“You just said I can’t.”  
  
“Well, you need practice then, don’t you?”  
  
“No.”  
  
Dom sighed, and tugged on him insistently.  
  
“Oh, don’t be so miserable. It’s not that bad.”  
  
Matt reluctantly began to bop along to the beat, and Dom grabbed him by the forearm and led him into the kitchen. There, they began to shift back and forth to the rhythm, dancing around one another as the music began to build in tension. Matt moved awkwardly, his hips not at all swinging as naturally or smoothly as Dom’s, though his enthusiasm started to slowly increase as the seconds ticked by.  
  
Dom watched him, his grin widening at the way Matt’s body moved to the beat. For someone who was so in sync with the finest details of music, from composing melodies to the execution of instrumentation, Matt had absolutely no rhythm when it came to dancing. Dom found it both amusing and baffling.  
  
He supposed it wasn’t difficult for him because he was a drummer, and even Chris had some moves probably because of his own experience with skins and the bass. However, Matt was multi-instrumental and had been moving along to their own music for years, so in theory should have at least _some_ natural ability. But amazingly, he was utterly useless.  
  
It was as though as soon as he was urged to dance, every part of his body suddenly lost coordination with every other part, so all he could do was fix his feet to the floor and shift his arse clumsily from side to side. Not to mention the way Matt lifted his arms up and moved his elbows in a strange circular motion as some sort of accompaniment. Dom had to bite his lip to stop from laughing out loud.  
  
But the amusement must have been written all over Dom’s face, because then Matt was frowning at him, his cheeks coloured a little.  
  
“This is why I don’t fucking dance,” he muttered.  
  
His movements slowed and he turned to leave. Dom caught him by the arm and pulled him back, his expression softened.  
  
“Oh, come on, I’m sorry.”  
  
Matt watched him warily, his lower lip protruding a little. Dom smiled and rested a hand on his shoulder, gazing at him sincerely.  
  
“I won’t make fun of you anymore, I promise,” he continued. “Here, I’ll give you some pointers.”  
  
He stood back from Matt for a moment, his eyes scanning down his body, and then pressed one hand to the brunette’s hip.  
  
“Bend your knees a little, and let your feet move,” he said. “You don’t need to be fixed to one spot. In fact, it makes it easier to dance if you aren’t.”  
  
Reluctantly, Matt bent his knees, his eyes on Dom.  
  
“Yep. Now step from side to side. It seems like a stupid thing to do, I know, but it’s a classic.”  
  
Matt moved a foot to one side, then back again, and repeated the step with the other foot. Dom smiled.  
  
“That’s it. Let your knees bob a little with it.”  
  
Matt complied, and Dom began to move along with him so the singer could copy him. They watched each other dancing now; Matt studying carefully to mimic the drummer, and Dom assessing Matt’s progress as he did so. He squeezed Matt’s hip, grinning.  
  
“See. It’s not that hard,” Dom said gently. “And I have to say, you’re not that bad, either.”  
  
Matt snorted and scratched at his neck, his eyes flicking over Dom’s form as he moved more eagerly to the music.  
  
“Maybe. But I don’t look like you do. Don’t think I could ever look like that.”  
  
Dom furrowed his brow, his smile a slightly puzzled one.  
  
“Like what?”  
  
Matt shrugged, continuing to bop along, though still reluctantly.  
  
“I don’t know; you just move really naturally.”  
  
Dom shrugged.  
  
“It’s just practice.”  
  
“Nah, it’s more than that. Your body does things that mine won’t.”  
  
“How do you mean?”  
  
“Like this, here.” Matt’s hands came down to Dom’s hips, surprising him a little. “You move so easily. My hips won’t do that.”  
  
A smile crept its way across Dom’s face, turning into a wolfish grin. He looked at Matt from under his dark eyelashes.  
  
“Oh, I bet they will,” he murmured.  
  
He slipped his other hand down to Matt’s other hip and held him firmly before attempting to push them in time with the music. Matt let out a small, surprised sound, and he looked up at Dom, giggling in embarrassment.  
  
“ _Dom_ -”  
  
Dom laughed but didn’t relent, despite Matt’s hands scrambling over his own in an attempt to stop him. He pushed Matt’s hips across and down a little now, making them roll slightly, though still to the beat of the music.  
  
“Stop it,” Matt protested. “I’m not designed to do that. It feels weird.”  
  
“Yeah, but it _looks_ good,” Dom said devilishly.  
  
Matt flushed, letting out another awkward giggle. One hand came up to rub at his eye.  
  
“I’m sure it doesn’t.”  
  
“It _does_.”  
  
“Shut up. What do you know?”  
  
Dom chuckled, noticing how Matt was still dancing along to the music and allowing him to guide his hips, despite the protests. A new song had started that had a slower rhythm but equally heavy beat, if not more so, and louder, more guttural electronic sounds.  
  
“I know how to dance. And that the point of it is to basically move as though you’re imagining having sex.”  
  
Matt scoffed, shaking his head.  
  
“You’re a fucking pervert.”  
  
Dom laughed now, shrugging.  
  
“Yeah. Doesn’t mean it isn’t true. You can hear it in the music, so just go with it.”  
  
He tipped his head in signal and began to move more purposefully, urging Matt to do that same with his hips. The drummer began to sing along to the song, though fortunately it required more speaking than actual singing this time.  
  
“ _I let you put it in my mouth. I let it get under my skin. I let you pump it through my veins. I let you take me from within._ ”  
  
Dom watched, grinning, as Matt’s eyes widened a little.  
  
“You’re just twisting it to make it sound dirty,” Matt stated.  
  
Dom rolled his eyes.  
  
“Don’t be so naive. It’s there. And it’s there so you can convey your sexual prowess to other people. And you’re alright at sex, aren’t you?”  
  
Matt’s ego kicked in, and his posture stiffened, pulling himself up to full height. He narrowed his eyes at Dom.  
  
“ _Yes_ , thank you. Better than alright, actually.”  
  
Dom smiled at the obvious display of pride, and decided to use it to his advantage.  
  
“Well, then, that’s what you should be showing; that you know how to move your hips and your body.”  
  
Matt’s brow furrowed.  
  
“But it’s different when you’re actually fucking someone. You have something to move against, and there’s a point to it.”  
  
“There’s a point to dancing – it’s called seduction, mate.”  
  
Dom moved forward as he continued to dance, a predatory expression on his face, and pushed Matt backwards at his hips toward the kitchen counter. The brunette threw him an odd look, but Dom could see the way Matt’s eyes were then drawn down to the slow, heavy rhythm of the slim body coming at him. The blonde cocked his head and bit his lip, smiling a little.  
  
“You use your body-” Dom’s eyes tracked over Matt’s face, “-to get their attention.”  
  
He pressed a hip to Matt’s, pinning him against the counter.  
  
“Make them think about what you can do with it-” He moved his face closer to Matt’s, “-and do _to_ them with it.”  
  
Dom used his slight height advantage to arch over the brunette, one hand on Matt’s free hip, the other on the counter behind him. He watched Matt from under low lids, his gaze met by wide blue eyes.  
  
“And if you need something to move against-” Dom pushed his hip harder into Matt, “-then use their body on the dance floor.”  
  
Dom tilted his head slightly, and let his gaze slide from the open neck of Matt’s shirt all the way up his bare throat to his face. He could see Matt’s mouth fallen open slightly in shock, and felt the way his body leaned backwards in an attempt to escape.  
  
“Would you like me to show you how to do that too?” Dom asked, voice laced with seduction.  
  
He was only able to hold it for a moment longer before he burst out laughing, releasing Matt from his pinned position and then grabbing onto the counter as he doubled over in hysterics. Matt, however, wasn’t laughing.  
  
Dom felt Matt shove him with one hand, and when he looked up, the singer was glaring at him with red cheeks.  
  
“You’re such a fucking wanker sometimes,” Matt growled.  
  
Dom continued to laugh, trying to catch his breath and rubbing at his eyes that were starting to water from amusement.  
  
“I was just pissing about, mate. You know that. You didn’t really think I was serious, did you?”  
  
Matt just scowled again, crossing his arms over his chest before looking away.  
  
“I couldn’t bloody tell, now could I? You were acting fucking odd before that, so how was I supposed to know?”  
  
Dom tried to calm his laughter, standing up straighter and reaching a hand out to rub at Matt’s shoulder. Matt shrugged him off in annoyance.  
  
“Sorry to get your hopes up,” Dom teased, beginning to laugh again.  
  
Matt gave a snort of derision.  
  
“Oh yeah, funny. It wasn’t that,” he said snidely. “You were just fucking freaking me out, okay?”  
  
Dom’s expression softened and he let his laughter die, moving over to where Matt was standing. He reached out to Matt again, who moved away from his touch once more. But Dom persisted, taking him by the shoulders and looking him in the face.  
  
“Look, I’m sorry. Really. I shouldn’t have done that.”  
  
“No. You shouldn’t,” Matt replied petulantly.  
  
“ _Matt_...”  
  
Dom sighed, sliding a hand up to rest at the base of Matt’s neck. Matt didn’t shrug him off this time, but his expression was still wary.  
  
“Why would you fuck with me like that?” Matt asked, his tone more hurt than irritated now.  
  
Dom furrowed his brow and chewed on his lip. He shrugged and sighed again before replying.  
  
“I don’t know. I got carried away,” he admitted. “And to be honest, I was already a little freaked out myself, so was trying to lighten the mood.”  
  
Matt watched him carefully for a moment.  
  
“What were you freaked out by?”  
  
Dom shrugged.  
  
“All the talk about sex and seduction.”  
  
Matt frowned.  
  
“But we’ve always talked about that. Are you getting uncomfortable about it now?”  
  
Dom smiled a little, shaking his head.  
  
“No, it’s not that. Not in the way you think, anyway. I guess it’s just that I haven’t tried to pull anyone for a while, so it sort of hit me all at once that I’ll have to start doing it again. Was wondering if I actually _can_ anymore.”  
  
Matt’s expression had softened now, and he tipped his head to one side, grinning sheepishly.  
  
“Well, if what you just did to me is anything to go by, I don’t think you’ll have a problem,” he murmured.  
  
Dom chuckled, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“I thought you were freaked out by it?”  
  
“I was.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “Probably because it was so convincing. You’re a real slapper, you know.”  
  
Dom laughed as Matt let out a giggle.  
  
“Thanks,” he replied.  
  
“You’re welcome,” Matt said, grinning.  
  
Then the brunette turned his head, eying off the food on the kitchen counter with a hungry gaze.  
  
“You made me breakfast?” Matt asked.  
  
Dom chuckled.  
  
“I made _us_ breakfast,” he corrected. “Hopefully the pancakes haven’t gone cold.”  
  
He watched as Matt licked his lips and made his way around to the other side of the bench, pulling up a stool and grabbing a plate. He began to pile said plate with food; first the fruit, then several pancakes, before reaching for the white sauce to top it all off. Dom made a face as the fruit became soaked with the pancake sauce, but Matt either didn’t notice or didn’t care, as he began shovelling forkfuls of food into his mouth.  
  
Dom shook his head, fighting a smile at the sight of his best friend, and then reached for a plate himself to serve his own breakfast.  
  
*  
  
That night, Matt started up as soon as the two of them stretched out on the chaise and turned out the lights. He shifted one way, then the other; toward Dom, away from him; on his front, on his back; on one side, then over to the other. His knees nudged against Dom’s a few times, and he allowed his feet to tangle amongst the drummer’s every now and then. But no matter how he lay, it seemed he wasn’t comfortable.  
  
After about half an hour of it, Dom spoke up.  
  
“Are you gonna be like this all night?”  
  
His tone wasn’t irritated, just a little amused.  
  
Matt let out an exasperated sigh and stopped for a moment.  
  
“The settee is making my back feel like shite,” he replied.  
  
He fidgeted about again for a while longer before Dom reached out a hand to the brunette’s tense shoulder. He squeezed it gently and then let his thumb massage the skin beneath Matt’s shirt for a few moments. Matt stilled at this, and Dom heard him exhale slowly, his body relaxing a little. Then there was silence again, and Dom thought Matt might have finally been able to settle.  
  
But Matt moved suddenly, sitting up and making Dom open his eyes. He could see Matt’s dishevelled hair like a dark halo around his head, his open eyes shining in the gloom.  
  
“I need to sleep in a bed, or I think I might permanently injure myself,” he said. “I’m going to the bedroom.”  
  
Dom felt a twinge of disappointment; he’d grown used to the familiar comfort of Matt next to him while he slept. But he did understand Matt’s decision; his own back wasn’t exactly in the best shape from a fortnight of sleeping on a couch. Still, only one of the beds in the house was made up, and Dom couldn’t be arsed putting the other together now. He’d have to wait until the next day.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Matt clambered off the bed, his foot snagging the sheet for a moment and pulling it off Dom slightly. He tugged down his rumpled shirt and scratched idly at his scalp, yawning. Dom watched as he stood there for a moment, his white legs pale in the moonlight beneath his boxers. Matt tipped his head, as though in expectation.  
  
“Get on with it,” he said.  
  
Dom frowned, confused.  
  
“What...?”  
  
Matt yawned again and then motioned with his hand before rubbing at his nose.  
  
“Move your arse. I’m tired.”  
  
Now Dom was really puzzled.  
  
“I thought you were going to the bedroom.”  
  
It was Matt’s turn to look confused.  
  
“I am.”  
  
Dom quirked an eyebrow.  
  
“So go.”  
  
“I’m waiting for you.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Matt furrowed his brow.  
  
“You’re not coming with me?”  
  
“To bed?”  
  
“Erm, yes.”  
  
“In the _same_ bed?”  
  
Even in the dark, Dom could see Matt roll his eyes.  
  
“Yes. What does it matter? We’ve practically been sleeping together anyway.” He paused at his own wording, snorting and giggling, and then waved his hand dismissively. “You know what I mean though; it’s no different.”  
  
Dom had sat up by this time, and ran fingers through his own tousled hair.  
  
“Yeah, I know, but...”  
  
“But...?”  
  
He paused for a moment, trying to think of the reason why it wasn’t a good idea to join Matt. He was _sure_ there was something, but right then, nothing sprang to mind.  
  
The two of them remained in the silent gloom for a few moments, before Matt shrugged and stretched theatrically, his lean figure visible beneath his loose clothing.  
  
“Well, whatever. I’m tired. Do what you like.”  
  
With that, the singer padded sleepily from the lounge and toward the hall.  
  
Dom sat, watching him leave, his mind ticking over. Then he was alone in the dark, sitting on an empty couch with a sheet half-covering his bare legs.  
  
He waited a minute more, and then scrambled from the settee, after Matt into the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two songs Dom was dancing to are 'Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger' by Daft Punk, and 'Vessel' by Nine Inch Nails.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt may finally be opening up, but Dom finds himself a little unprepared for it. He takes the hands-on approach to making Matt feel better.

“She made you happy, didn’t she?”  
  
Dom opened his eyes at the sound of Matt’s voice, lifting his head from its tilted-back position against the wall of the cave. They’d found a covered lagoon a few days earlier, a bit further down from Blue Haven Bay, where the water was shallow enough to sit in and the light came in through small openings in the cave roof. It reflected off the water and onto the rock walls, dancing and glittering in the small space and casting eerie shadows.  
  
As usual, Matt had given no pre-amble to his initiation of conversation that day, and Dom wasn’t really sure what he was getting at.  
  
“Hey...?”  
  
Matt continued to stare up at the sun-dappled walls.  
  
“Jess,” he clarified, his voice echoing in the small space. “When you were first together – I mean, when you could spend time with each other – you were happy, weren’t you? She made you... content?”  
  
Dom thought for a few moments before answering.  
  
“Yeah, she did.”  
  
Matt only hummed softly in reply.  
  
Dom settled his head back against the rocks and let his gaze mirror Matt’s on the high cave walls.  
  
“Why?”  
  
It took a few moments for Matt to respond, and then it was all in a rush of a single thought.  
  
“I was thinking, about relationships – and people – and how we all fit together, and get different things from different sources. Like happiness, and fulfilment, and whether it can be provided by a single person.”  
  
“Don’t you usually say it can’t be?” Dom asked. “All that about needs and wants.”  
  
Matt nodded, rubbing at his eye with the heel of his palm.  
  
“I know. But I was always talking about me, and what I’d found for myself, y’know? I assumed everyone else was the same. But after being here, with you–”  
  
He stopped short, and when Dom looked over, Matt had his eyes on him. They were filled with something Dom couldn’t read, and then Matt looked away again, awkward.  
  
“It really seems as though Jess made you genuinely happy; the two of you clicked somehow.”  
  
Dom cocked his head, his brow furrowed a little.  
  
“Hang on. The other week you said we never would have worked.”  
  
Matt shrugged, looking slightly sheepish.  
  
“And that I wasn’t the settling-down type.”  
  
Matt let out a sigh and wiggled his toes just above the water line.  
  
“I had ideas about the kind of person you were. The kind of person you _are_. But I’ve been learning a bit being out here; being alone. Well, practically alone. Had time to think.”  
  
He stared down at his feet and dipped them below the water again.  
  
“I realised I don’t know you like I thought I did.”  
  
He coloured at this, and then ran a wet hand over his face. Dom watched him for a few moments, surprised.  
  
“Of course you do,” the blonde said. “Come on, mate. I don’t hide anything, you know that. What you see is what you get; I’m not that deep.”  
  
His eyes sparkled at this, and Matt smiled a little.  
  
“Does that mean I can call you a shallow git, then?” Matt asked.  
  
Dom leaned over to splash water in Matt’s face, making him yelp in protest.  
  
“Only if I can call you a tactless bastard,” he replied.  
  
Matt frowned.  
  
“I’m not tactless. I’m honest.”  
  
Dom smiled.  
  
“Yes, but sometimes your honesty can be a little... brutal,” he explained.  
  
Matt’s expression became troubled.  
  
“I know, but I don’t mean things maliciously,” he said quietly. “Most of the time, anyway.”  
  
Dom grinned softly at Matt’s protruding bottom lip, and paddled over to the brunette’s position. He lifted a hand to squeeze the singer’s shoulder and then pressed his palm against the side of his face.  
  
“Don’t go sulking about it,” he said gently, his gaze affectionate. “I wasn’t paying you out – not really. You know I appreciated your candour; it’s just that the way you say things sometimes can come off as harsh to other people.”  
  
Matt sighed, averting his gaze from Dom’s for a few moments, though his fingers crept up to slide over the drummer’s. Dom knew that only a few weeks earlier, Matt would have been uncomfortable with this gesture. So, despite the frontman’s continuing reluctance to open up completely, Dom figured at least he was making a little headway in some respects.  
  
He decided to try another tack.  
  
“But you’re right. I’m one to talk about personality flaws; I _am_ shallow, I know that.”  
  
The strategy seemed to work, because Matt’s expression softened and his eyes came back to Dom’s.  
  
“I didn’t mean that.” Matt paused, hesitating. “Well, I _did_.”  
  
Dom raised an eyebrow.  
  
“But not like that,” he clarified. “I probably should have said vain.”  
  
Dom chuckled at Matt’s serious delivery, and slipped his hand back to tug gently on his hair.  
  
“Steady on.”  
  
The singer sighed again, sliding his own hand onto Dom’s bare shoulder.  
  
“Well, I don’t think that’s the right word either. I just mean you focus a lot on your appearance,” Matt continued. “Look after your skin and hair and all that. I didn’t say it was a _bad_ thing.”  
  
Dom grinned lazily.  
  
“So, I’m vain in a good way?”  
  
Matt gave a small smile.  
  
“Yeah. I guess that’s what I meant.”  
  
Dom chuckled, draping his arm around Matt’s shoulders.  
  
“Okay then.”  
  
He felt Matt turn his head, his mouth near Dom’s ear.  
  
“You know what I mean though, yeah?”  
  
Dom nodded, smiling.  
  
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”  
  
They sat in silence for a while, the light from the roof still illuminating patterns across the rock walls in front of them. Dom felt his eyelids starting to droop as the warmth of Matt’s body next to his and the calm lap of the water around him lulled him into relaxation.  
  
“I _am_ trying to sort myself out, actually. Work out why my head’s fucked up, and how to fix it.”  
  
Matt’s voice was quiet in the small cavern, and had a strange tone to it that Dom didn’t recognise.  
  
The blonde turned his head to track his gaze over Matt’s features. Matt flicked a glance sideways, though his eyes quickly returned to the wall.  
  
“Yeah, I know,” Dom said after a moment, puzzled.  
  
Matt let his foot slip under Dom’s, hooking their ankles. The drummer didn’t question it; he’d noticed Matt doing it a lot lately, when they were sleeping or lazing on the settee. He took it as an attempt by Matt to gain comfort and get closer to him, which Dom didn’t mind at all.  
  
“There’s just a lot to go through, a lot to figure out,” Matt said.  
  
Dom nodded, and then let his forehead rest gently against Matt’s temple.  
  
“Well, you can talk to me about it,” he murmured. “You know that.”  
  
Matt grimaced.  
  
“But I can’t, though,” he sighed.  
  
“Yeah, you can.”  
  
Matt’s brow furrowed and he twitched in frustration.  
  
“No, but I _can’t_. I literally don’t know how.”  
  
Dom lifted his head and fixed Matt’s gaze as the brunette turned to face him.  
  
“Just say how you feel,” Dom said simply.  
  
Matt chewed his lip.  
  
“Fucked up.”  
  
Dom rolled his eyes.  
  
“I gathered that,” he replied. “But _how_ exactly?”  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
“Angry? Frustrated? Sad?”  
  
Matt’s hand splashed up out of the water in annoyance.  
  
“Fuck, Dom – I don’t _know_ _!_ ” he snapped. “You’re as bad as Gaia!”  
  
Dom saw the look of regret on Matt’s face at mentioning her name.  
  
Matt had spoken of her more easily lately, and Dom had found out more about their relationship, but clearly the issue was far from resolved.  
  
“Well, sometimes you need that, don’t you think?” Dom asked. “Someone to ask you difficult things? Because otherwise you might not deal with it.”  
  
Matt’s expression had become sullen.  
  
“Not _all_ the time, I know,” Dom conceded. “Because that’s irritating. But times like this...”  
  
The blonde sighed and brought his hand to the back of Matt’s neck.  
  
“Though I think you know it’s not _just_ that, anyway.” He paused and took a breath before speaking the next words. “You’re still hung up on Gaia.”  
  
Matt blanched and then frowned, his hand slipping from Dom’s shoulder to his own lap beneath the water.  
  
“I’m not. I don’t have feelings for her still.”  
  
Dom shrugged.  
  
“Well, maybe not love. But it’s _something_ ,” he insisted. “Resentment?”  
  
Matt shook his head.  
  
“Regret?”  
  
“Not really.”  
  
“Guilt?”  
  
Matt was quiet then, his silence enough of a reply. His eyes were trained on his outline below the water.  
  
“Guilt about what though?” Dom asked. “You weren’t seeing other birds without telling her, were you?”  
  
Matt scowled.  
  
“No. I _wasn’t_.”  
  
“I didn’t think so – from what you said before,” Dom said carefully. “So what do you feel guilty about?”  
  
Matt’s gaze became distant.  
  
“A lot of things.”  
  
Dom waited, but the brunette didn’t elaborate.  
  
“Such as...?”  
  
Matt shrugged.  
  
“Not opening up. Not trying to work out my problems with her help. And wanting things _outside_ of our relationship.”  
  
Dom’s hand began a slow stroke of the damp skin on the back of Matt’s neck, his motions soothing. He wasn’t sure what Matt’s last point referred to, but decided to leave it for another time. If he pushed too hard now, it was likely his bandmate would clam up altogether.  
  
“People grow apart sometimes, Matt. You can’t blame yourself for that.”  
  
“Maybe I shoulder have tried harder.”  
  
“Well, you probably would have if you’d thought it would work. If you’d thought you were meant to be together.”  
  
Matt made a face.  
  
“You know I don’t believe in fate, or any of that bollocks.”  
  
“That’s not what I meant. I just meant if you could have had a functioning relationship in the future. If you could have seen yourself spending your life with her.”  
  
Matt fell silent again. His hands came up out of the water to rub at his face and rake through his hair, before exhaling loudly.  
  
“You couldn’t, could you?” Dom persisted.  
  
Matt turned his head then, his blue eyes penetrating Dom’s.  
  
“No. But that doesn’t really mean anything when I haven’t really thought about spending my life with someone at all. I’ve only considered what’s making me happy _now_. Committing to something for life – that’s not me, and especially not when my head is so fucked up. If I’d sorted _that_ out, then maybe...”  
  
“Maybe, what? Maybe you’d have decided you wanted to be with her? Or maybe you’d have realised even _more_ that it couldn’t work. Don’t start on regrets now, Matt.”  
  
“But I can still feel like I should have done more.”  
  
Dom waved his hand dismissively.  
  
“I could have too – with Jess. We all could have done more. But it probably wouldn’t have made a shit of difference.” Dom’s expression was serious now, determined. “You and me, we lead strange lives. It’s hard to keep relationships going when you’re touring the world for two years straight at a time.”  
  
“So basically, we’re doomed to failure, is what you’re saying.”  
  
Dom shook his head.  
  
“No – we just can’t expect conventional relationships. Which is what you’ve always said you don’t like anyway,” Dom pointed out. “Why are you feeling guilty about that now? I would’ve thought you’d just accept what you had with Gaia for what it was, and start anew; find someone else.”  
  
Matt turned his head away and Dom felt his shoulders slump. When he spoke, Dom was shocked to hear a shake in his best friend’s voice.  
  
“I miss her.”  
  
The words echoed in the small confines of the cave, and hung there heavily for a few moments. Dom broke the silence, his tone laced with confusion.  
  
“You _miss_ her?”  
  
Matt sighed in frustration.  
  
“Not like _that_. Like I said, I don’t really love her anymore,” he explained. “But I do miss the company she gave me. Having someone there that you know is always willing to listen, and be with you. Someone to come home to – wherever that is – and to look after you.”  
  
He paused for a moment, hesitating.  
  
“Someone that loves you, unconditionally. No matter what a prat you are.”  
  
He exhaled a heavy breath and then turned his head to look at Dom. He clearly didn’t like whatever he saw on the drummer’s face, because he then shook his head and pulled away from Dom.  
  
“It’s all wank – never mind. I told you my head was fucked up.”  
  
Matt went to make for the cave entrance but Dom stopped him.  
  
“Oh no – no, you don’t,” he said. “You can’t just say shit like that and leave, mate.”  
  
Matt tried to extricate himself from Dom’s grip but the blonde held fast.  
  
“ _Dom_.”  
  
Dom gave him a pointed look.  
  
“You’re not going; not yet.”  
  
Matt sighed again, relenting, and sat down on a nearby rock ledge. He shifted awkwardly, his eyes on the water.  
  
“Well, what. What do you want me to say?” he muttered. “Clearly you know now how pathetic I am.”  
  
Dom took Matt by the shoulders, staring into his face. He dipped his head to make the brunette look at him, albeit reluctantly.  
  
“It’s not pathetic to want to be loved,” he said gently, yet firmly.  
  
Matt looked away again.  
  
“I didn’t say that’s what it was,” Matt murmured.  
  
“But it’s what you meant.”  
  
Matt’s fingers strayed to his bare knee, fiddling with damp hairs on his skin.  
  
“No.”  
  
“ _Yes_.”  
  
Dom’s tone was insistent, and the brunette frowned. Dom chuckled softly.  
  
“It’s okay, you know.”  
  
He dipped his head again, trying to catch Matt’s eye.  
  
“It’s _okay_ ,” he repeated. “It’s human to want that.”  
  
Matt didn’t say anything, just stared at the water. Dom sighed.  
  
“You’re the one that said you think sometimes you’re cold or aloof. Clearly this shows that you’re not. It shows that you want contact.”  
  
Matt chanced a glance at him.  
  
“ _Need_ it, even,” Dom said softly.  
  
Matt flushed and shifted, but Dom pulled him into an embrace. He held him tight for several long moments and was relieved when Matt’s arms eventually encircled his ribcage in return. Then the drummer pulled away slightly to lift his hands to Matt’s face, cradling his head. Dom stared straight into the bright blue eyes in front of him.  
  
“We all need love, whether we say it out loud or not,” he said candidly. “So don’t ever feel bad that you do. I know I don’t.”  
  
Matt watched him quietly, his fingers coming up to wrap around Dom’s wrists, and then his brow furrowed slightly.  
  
“But you _haven’t_ said anything about it,” Matt pointed out. “Not lately. At least, not to me.”  
  
Dom bit his lip.  
  
“I guess I haven’t,” he admitted. “Though not on purpose. Just haven’t put a voice to those thoughts yet. But they’re definitely there.”  
  
“So, you’ve been missing Jess?”  
  
Dom shrugged.  
  
“In a way, I suppose. Like you said about Gaia.”  
  
Matt struggled with his next words, his tone strange and hesitant.  
  
“Well, then. Maybe, erm. Missing... love?”  
  
Dom grinned softly, his eyes pinned to Matt’s.  
  
“Yeah. Have been for a while, actually.”  
  
As Dom spoke the words, his chest ached unexpectedly and he was the one that had to look away for a moment. Matt must have sensed something because his hands came up in a mirror of Dom’s, cradling the blonde’s head and holding his gaze.  
  
This gesture threw Dom; he’d never known Matt to be boldly emotional like this, either physically or verbally. For the first time, the drummer felt oddly uncomfortable under Matt’s scrutiny about his mental state, and his heart leapt into his throat.  
  
“What-?” Dom managed, his voice garbled to his own ears.  
  
Matt didn’t shy away, and Dom could hear blood rushing behind his ears.  
  
“What?” Matt asked in return, his tone short and soft.  
  
Dom could see something going on behind Matt’s eyes, their depths clouded with an unfamiliar emotion, but Matt didn’t seem to want to voice those thoughts out loud. Dom feared the worst; he didn’t know what Matt would think of him. He knew Matt had been around to see him at his worst over his break up with Jess, but admitting to loneliness like this was different somehow.  
  
And then Matt did look like he was about to say something, his mouth opening slightly, but the words never emerged. Instead, one hand slipped from Dom’s cheek and his face moved closer, an oddly intense expression on his features. Matt was so near that Dom could feel the frontman’s warm breath on his face, and all he could hear was the sound of his own heart hammering in his ears.  
  
When Matt moved again, it was just slightly, and almost in slow motion to Dom. His head tilted to one side, then forward, and Dom felt lips graze across his cheek before pressing more firmly against the skin there. The gesture was so small, but left Dom reeling, utterly bewildered.  
  
Matt had _kissed_ him.  
  
Dom couldn’t remember the last time Matt had done that. Because he simply never _did_.  
  
“I’m here,” Matt said, his voice barely audible. “For whatever you need, yeah?”  
  
They stayed like that for a moment, the drummer’s head too cluttered with questions to dare move or able to think what to do next. He could feel Matt’s pulse fluttering beneath his skin, his hands still holding the singer’s head.  
  
Then Matt shifted again, pulling away, and he coughed awkwardly, the moment broken.  
  
Dom released him and sat back against the rock ledge, running a hand slowly through his half-damp locks. His anxiety over Jess and relationships was briefly forgotten as he mulled over Matt’s odd behaviour. He supposed he should take it as a good thing that his best friend was becoming more relaxed about showing his emotions and displaying affection. But it was so uncharacteristic and sudden that Dom couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy; he’d been blindsided by this.  
  
Though he was also aware it wasn’t just Matt’s actions that bewildered him; it was his own reaction to them. When Matt had embraced him and pressed his face and mouth against Dom’s cheek like that, it had felt _intense_. Unexpectedly and usually so. Dom presumed it was because his own emotions were so raw and close to the surface these days; practically everything felt important, no matter how insignificant. If that was the case, he needed to learn to cope with things more evenly, as he didn’t want to freeze in panic again the next time. Matt would probably hesitate about being so openly affectionate again if he did.  
  
As Dom looked over at Matt hovering near the cave entrance, it already seemed like he was regretting what he’d done. The brunette’s fingers rubbed against his nose and raked through his hair repeatedly, his gaze flicking to the world outside the entire time. Dom decided to nip it in the bud.  
  
He reached out a hand to Matt’s arm, squeezing it and rubbing his thumb back and forth across the skin. Matt looked over and Dom held his gaze, unwavering.  
  
“It means a lot, you being here for me,” the drummer said. “I should have said, before.”  
  
Matt’s cheeks coloured and he let out a nervous giggle.  
  
“I haven’t really though,” he replied. “You know I’m shit at this sort of thing.”  
  
Dom grinned softly.  
  
“You’re better than you think.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “It’s _all_ been good.”  
  
He watched Matt carefully, hoping his best friend understood what he was implying; that even the new affection was welcome, strange as it was.  
  
Matt smiled sheepishly, and then turned abruptly, poking his head out of the cave entrance.  
  
“I’m a bit hungry. Let’s head back to the house.”  
  
Dom smiled at Matt’s eagerness to change the subject. He knew he could pester the singer about his fear of emotional intimacy, but decided to leave it for now.  
  
“You’re _always_ hungry,” Dom pointed out, smirking.  
  
“I’m a growing boy.”  
  
Dom snorted.  
  
“You are not. You’re an old man.”  
  
Matt flipped him a lazy V, eyes twinkling.  
  
“If I am, then you are too.”  
  
“Fine, we both are.”  
  
Matt grinned and stood up to leave, Dom following in tow.  
  
As they ducked to pass through the cave entrance, Dom shoved Matt’s bum playfully as it was pushed in his face.  
  
“Come on then, move your fat arse, old man.”  
  
He grinned as he heard Matt scoff indignantly.  
  
“For the last time, I am _not_ fat!” he whined.  
  
Dom snickered.  
  
* * *  
  
A few days later, Dom was in the sun room, stretched out on the soft expanse of carpet on the floor, warming himself. He had his eyes closed and shirt unbuttoned, the light pleasant on his face, and allowed himself to drift to the sound of Matt tinkling quietly on the baby grand.  
  
With every breath he could feel the slow rush of air in through his nostrils and then out through his mouth, keenly aware of all the scents in the room with his eyes closed. The faint smell of new carpet was overwhelmed by the aroma of pastries from the kitchen that they’d had for a breakfast only a few hours earlier, and of tea that Matt had just brewed and set on the side table. And, as his thoughts turned to his best friend, Dom realised he could smell him too, if only vaguely; the light scent of coconut from Matt’s hair product, as well as the familiar muskiness of his cologne.  
  
The drummer opened his eyes and looked up at Matt from his sprawled position right beside the piano seat. Matt’s eyes were on the keys as he played, stroking them gently with long fingers to sound out a soft, slow melody. His gaze strayed as he saw Dom watching him, and the corners of his mouth curled a little with the hint of a smile before he paused and then winced. Dom gave him a quizzical look.  
  
“Alright?”  
  
He’d noticed Matt pausing and fidgeting a few times while playing that afternoon, more than usual, but the brunette hadn’t offered an explanation as of yet. Matt stopped to lift a hand to the back of his neck, rolling his shoulders.  
  
“Neck’s fucked up,” he said. “From before, sleeping on that settee, I think.”  
  
“Yeah, mine’s been put out sometimes too.”  
  
Matt slipped his hand back to the piano, and Dom’s eyes tracked over him as the slight figure arched his back.  
  
“I’ll have to get that masseuse from your hotel to come have a look at it.”  
  
Dom grinned wolfishly.  
  
“Ah, _Michelle_ , you mean,” he murmured.  
  
Matt smirked and looked down at Dom, lids heavy.  
  
“Yeah. Do you reckon she does, erm, _private_ sessions?”  
  
Dom chuckled, one hand straying to his bare stomach in the sunlight.  
  
“Maybe for me. Don’t know about you,” he teased.  
  
Matt giggled and then launched into a few short, dramatic pieces on the piano. After he’d finished, he spoke again, his tone devilish.  
  
“It’s like I keep telling you; it’s because you’re easy.”  
  
Before Dom had a chance to reply, Matt played again, and the drummer could see a cheeky grin on his face.  
  
“It’s not my fault everyone finds me charming,” Dom said, once Matt had paused again.  
  
He sat up a little to rest on his elbows, and gazed at Matt from under long lashes.  
  
“Even _you_ said you do,” he murmured, tone flirtatious.  
  
Matt flushed and waved his hand dismissively.  
  
“That’s not how I meant it,” he protested.  
  
“Then how did you mean it?”  
  
Matt shifted on his seat, hooking an ankle behind one of the legs, and rubbed at his eye with the knuckles of his hand.  
  
“Just that you don’t really have problems attracting the opposite sex.” He paused, brow furrowing a little, then spoke again. “Or the same one, actually.”  
  
Dom snorted a laugh, slightly confused. Normally, he would have taken that as Matt taking the piss out of him again, but the brunette’s tone was odd, almost serious.  
  
“Well, exactly,” the blonde replied. “That’s why even _you_ think I’m charming.”  
  
He sat up completely now and leaned forward to slide a hand onto Matt’s bare knee, a coy expression on his face.  
  
“Dom, don’t—”  
  
Matt’s tone was short, annoyed, and he shoved the drummer’s hand away. Dom frowned and threw his bandmate a confused smile.  
  
“Come on, I was only pissing about,” he said.  
  
Matt turned and rubbed at his neck, eyes flashing.  
  
“I’ve told you before; _don’t_ ,” he snapped.  
  
Dom’s smile disappeared and he stood up to look down at Matt, brow furrowed.  
  
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked seriously.  
  
Matt’s shoulders slumped and he stared down at the piano keys.  
  
“Sorry,” he said softly.  
  
He tilted his head to one side and Dom saw him wince.  
  
“It’s just my neck; it’s giving me a headache.”  
  
Dom’s expression softened at Matt’s apology, and he stepped around behind to rest his hands on the brunette’s shoulders. With slow, gentle strokes he began to work the muscles of Matt’s neck with his thumbs, moving in a deliberate path from the base up to the back of his head. Matt’s eyes fluttered shut, and Dom heard him exhale.  
  
“It’s okay – you should have said it was this bad,” Dom said. “I’d have volunteered to have a go at it earlier.”  
  
The singer’s head fell forward, fingers sliding off the keys, and he breathed out a low groan.  
  
“Shit. That’s good.”  
  
Dom continued, working his thumbs along the bands of muscle next to Matt’s vertebrae, feeling the taut knots underneath his fingers. His eyes followed his motions, taking in the faint red marks his digits left on Matt’s pale skin.  
  
A clash of notes came from the piano as Matt’s hands came up to grip the keys when Dom hit a particularly thick knot.  
  
“ _Fuck_.”  
  
Matt’s voice was a growl. Dom paused.  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
Matt exhaled slowly.  
  
“Nah, it’s good. Just sore.”  
  
Dom hesitated.  
  
“More?” he asked.  
  
“Yeah. Please.”  
  
Dom resumed, a little more carefully this time.  
  
He focused on the muscles at the side of Matt’s neck, using his fingers now and then down the base to where the singer’s shoulders began. Here, Dom slid his hands along the bony, narrow frame, squeezing slowly but deeply, gaze flicking back to Matt to make sure he was okay. He let his hands skim under the neck edge of Matt’s shirt to work the skin directly, pressing in to determine where the tension lay. A spot just above the right shoulder blade elicited a groan from his best friend.  
  
Dom smiled slightly to himself, and continued to work at it until the muscles loosened a little, then he started on the other side. Matt’s head lolled back to rest against Dom’s belly and his mouth fell open, brow furrowed in both pain and pleasure.  
  
“Oh fuck. _Dom_...”  
  
Matt’s voice came out as a whine, and Dom’s eyebrows shot up, the blonde chuckling in surprise.  
  
“Good then?”  
  
Matt’s eyes opened, his lids still low, and he focused his gaze on Dom.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Dom’s eyes tracked over Matt’s features; the flush of his cheek, the glossiness of his eyes, the dampness of his parted lips. He tried to remember the last time he’d seen Matt like this. He couldn’t. The last few years, the only expressions he remembered seeing on Matt’s face were serious, troubled, silly, or peaked from the adrenaline rush of performing. Those of true contentment or connection were scarce, especially directed at him.  
  
Instinctively, Dom slid a hand from one of Matt’s shoulders into his hair, tangling his fingers in the dark locks at the back of his head. There, they began a slow, firm massage of Matt’s scalp, the digits splayed wide apart. The singer’s eyelids fluttered shut again and Dom could feel him pushing back against his fingers to increase the pressure.  
  
The drummer slid his other thumb along the line of muscle at Matt’s shoulder, pressing down harder on the skin to trace a path back to the tender spot at his shoulder blade. He repeated this several times, Matt’s body shuddering in response. His fingers then moved in parallel over the swell of muscle and sinew in the middle of the shoulder, to make their way back up the side of Matt’s neck again. The brunette let out a contented sigh, rolling his shoulders as Dom massaged his neck once more.  
  
Matt’s brow furrowed as the fingers in his hair raked none too gently over his scalp, pushing at his head and ruffling his hair. Then Dom’s free hand slid back over shoulders to the known tender spot, and he used his index and middle finger to apply pressure in a circular motion, digits flat. Matt’s eyelids fluttered and he groaned low in his throat, his fingers coming up to clash on the keys again. His body stiffened as Dom pushed his hand through Matt’s hair, his fingers accidentally catching and pulling on the dark tresses.  
  
Dom watched him for a moment, his mind ticking over.  
  
He then allowed his fingers to wind tighter in the hair, and he closed his fist to take a firm grip of Matt’s locks in one hand. With the other, he pressed his fingers directly into the spot above Matt’s shoulder blade, twisting them, and then pulled Matt’s head to one side with a quick tug. Matt took in a sharp breath, his lips remaining parted, and his eyelids flew open to fix his gaze up onto Dom.  
  
His eyes were dark; darker than Dom remembered seeing them before, with pupils blown wide and a slightly quizzical look to them. But the blonde didn’t waver or explain, just went with his gut and held fast to Matt’s hair. He pulled it the same way again roughly, and pushed harder into Matt’s shoulder with his thumb now.  
  
Matt’s lips parted further to let out a short, involuntary mewl.  
  
For a moment, Dom thought the singer was going to snap at him to stop. But he didn’t. Instead, his eyes closed as Dom started to work his fingers into the sore spot, attempting to loosen the muscle further. He pushed and pressed in silence, massaging Matt’s muscles and keeping his hair gripped hard, all the while his eyes on his slim bandmate. The brunette’s body still jumped and shuddered at the treatment, but Dom could feel Matt squirming and arching into his touch, not away from it.  
  
When he stopped, Matt sat limply for a minute, the weight of his head resting back against Dom’s stomach and closed fist. He opened his eyes and looked up at Dom, his mouth open and ribcage rising and falling rapidly. Dom’s eyes were drawn down for a moment to the bobbing of Matt’s adam’s apple against the thin skin of his throat, the pale stretch slightly shadowed by stubble.  
  
Then the drummer’s gaze came back up and he released Matt’s hair, beginning to smooth the locks down from the tousled mess he’d created. His other hand softened its motions now too, his thumb drawing a path from Matt’s jawline down the side of his throat to his collarbone. Matt was still silent, making Dom wonder if he’d taken things too far.  
  
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he probed.  
  
Matt’s gaze shifted sideways for a moment, before he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.  
  
“No.” He rubbed at his nose and swallowed before speaking again, his expression appearing vaguely troubled. “No more than I wanted you to, anyway.”  
  
Then his features cleared and he smiled, letting out a giggle. Dom shot him a confused grin, watching him carefully.  
  
“Sure?”  
  
Matt’s smile broadened and he reached an arm behind to give Dom’s waist a squeeze.  
  
“Yeah. It hurt, but in a good way. Thanks.”  
  
Dom ruffled his hair affectionately and then gave Matt’s shoulders a squeeze.  
  
“Good. Glad I could help.”  
  
“Yeah, you did, definitely. I might have to get you to have another go at my shoulder sometime, actually. It tends to feel pretty rubbish these days.”  
  
Dom ghosted a hand down the back of Matt’s neck before moving to lean against the piano, folding his arms loosely across his chest.  
  
“Sure. Anytime, mate. Just say the word.”  
  
Matt threw him a lopsided smile, and then began tinkering about on the baby grand again. He played a few slow bars of nonsense before pausing and then launching into a fast-paced honky tonk piece, bobbing about to it with a silly grin on his face. Dom smiled lazily and pushed himself off the piano, heading toward the kitchen.  
  
“Don’t know how well that number would go down on the new album,” he called.  
  
He heard Matt giggle.  
  
“I think the fans would still love it; they always do.”  
  
Dom raised his voice so Matt could hear him as he drew two glasses from the cupboard and the juice carton from the fridge.  
  
“They’re as mad as you are, you mean.”  
  
“It’s not just me, actually. You’re no better,” Matt called back. “Neither’s Chris.”  
  
Dom chuckled as he poured the drinks and started to head back into the sun room.  
  
“That’s true,” he agreed. “The fans always think he’s Mister Normal, with his wife and kids, and it’s just you and me that are bananas.”  
  
Matt paused his playing, and Dom saw him murmur _bananas_ , mimicking the drummer with a smile on his face. He took a swig of his juice as Dom handed him the glass.  
  
“Deceptive bugger,” Matt grinned. “The fans don’t know the half of it.”  
  
Dom nudged Matt along the piano seat to squeeze in next to him, sipping his own juice.  
  
“Speaking of which, do you think it’s time to call in the cavalry soon?” he asked. “I know you’ve got a few ideas down, but I can’t really work on anything properly until Chris is here too.”  
  
Matt shifted for a moment until he was comfortable, his thigh coming to rest flush with Dom’s.  
  
“Yeah, sure. But just tell me if _you_ have any ideas you want to try out, and I’ll see if I can help.”  
  
Dom watched Matt’s fingers as they wandered across the keys, feeling out a melody here and there.  
  
“Well, you don’t play bass. You know that’s what I need to work with to get my head into it.”  
  
Matt shrugged.  
  
“I do, a little.”  
  
Dom turned to look at him.  
  
“You do? Since when?”  
  
“I’ve been teaching myself some over the last few years, though it was only really when I was at home.” Matt’s eyes flicked across for a moment, and he corrected himself. “In Italy, I mean.”  
  
Dom knew it was petty to feel sour about Matt’s new skill, but the jealousy rose up in him nonetheless, making him frown. There didn’t seem to be anything Matt couldn’t play, and teach himself to play fairly easily, whereas Dom struggled with every instrument other than drums. He’d forgotten most of the guitar he’d learnt as a kid, and only had a vague knack for DJing and electronic tinkering. A fact that Matt wasn’t shy of reminding him, given a chance. Though the blonde did try to take it all with good humour.  
  
“You’re trying to make me look bad on purpose, aren’t you?” Dom joked. “Soon there won’t be a single instrument you can’t play, and I’ll be out of a job.”  
  
Matt paused and turned his head, smiling wryly.  
  
“You think I keep you around only for your drumming skills?”  
  
Dom shrugged, his smile playful.  
  
“I don’t know. What else am I good for?”  
  
Matt cocked an eyebrow and opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped. Dom caught this and tipped his head in question.  
  
“Well?” he prompted.  
  
Matt watched him a moment more, his mouth curled into an unusual smile.  
  
“I was going to say – _plenty_ , I’m sure.”  
  
His gaze didn’t waver, and Dom felt his belly knot at Matt’s tone of voice. For the second time in as many days, Dom was thrown by Matt’s behaviour and he broke eye contact to shake his head and chuckle awkwardly. His eyes went down to the keys again, pressing one or two with his index finger, and he heard Matt laugh softly.  
  
“What?” the singer inquired.  
  
Dom smiled, his brow furrowed.  
  
“You’re weird,” he informed him.  
  
When he looked up, Matt was grinning at him, and shoved him in the shoulder with his own.  
  
“That makes two of us, then, doesn’t it?”  
  
Dom returned the grin.  
  
“I guess it does.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom finds himself in need of a little relief.

Dom went straight for the fridge when they got back to the house, squatting down in front of it with the door wide open and his head resting against the seal. He shivered as the cold air hit his sweat-slicked skin and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat loud in his ears.  
  
He and Matt had cycled over to Blue Haven Bay that afternoon, not to swim this time, but just to ride around and sit amongst the trees further up the hill. Unfortunately, the weather had been particularly warm and humid, and on the ride back Dom had become overheated and wet with perspiration. The chill of the fridge was a welcome solace, though he knew the best solution was to change out of his damp clothes and have a cool shower.  
  
“Close the door; you’re making the fridge warm.”  
  
Matt’s voice, scolding but light-hearted, came from behind him.  
  
“I was getting a drink, just give me a minute,” Dom replied.  
  
Reluctantly, he stood back up and pulled a carafe of juice from the fridge shelf, then closed the door.  
  
He could feel the muscles of his legs trembling from exertion and blood rushed hard through his veins, making him slightly giddy with adrenaline. Dom knocked back the glass of juice in one go, then poured another before holding it out to Matt.  
  
Matt rubbed his palms on the legs of his shorts in an attempt to remove the sweat, before taking the glass from Dom and swallowing the liquid in noisy gulps. He let out a loud exhalation as he finished and then wiped his face along the shoulder of his shirt, attempting to get rid of his own perspiration.  
  
The brunette set the glass down on the kitchen bench and then pulled his shirt off over his head in one quick motion, before throwing it in Dom’s face. Dom clawed at the shirt and threw it back at Matt, wrinkling his nose.  
  
“Ugh, you stink,” he complained.  
  
He shook his head in an attempt to get rid of the smell of Matt’s sweat and body odour that invaded his nostrils. Matt snorted.  
  
“Like _you_ don’t.”  
  
Dom threw him a predatory grin and made for the slim singer, pinning him against the bench and shoving an underarm in his face. Matt squealed and made noises of disgust, swatting at Dom and attempting to push him away, his head turned to one side.  
  
“But I didn’t deliberately inflict it on you,” Dom breathed, as he grappled with his best friend.  
  
Matt’s bare chest and shoulder were slippery under his hand from the sweat, and after a few moments the brunette managed to elude his grip, his bony hip knocking against Dom’s as he escaped.  
  
Matt stood a few paces back from him, rubbing at his face with both hands and making gagging sounds. Dom grinned.  
  
“You’re disgusting,” Matt informed him.  
  
“You started it.”  
  
Matt made a face.  
  
“I didn’t rub my smelly armpit in your face.”  
  
Dom snorted.  
  
“Close enough.”  
  
“Well,” Matt said, tone petulant. “I’m not as minging as you.”  
  
Dom raised an eyebrow, grin growing wider.  
  
“ _Minging?_ ” he queried. “I’m sorry, when did you become a chav?”  
  
Matt narrowed his eyes.  
  
“Besides,” Dom continued. “Have another smell of that shirt of yours and then tell me I’m worse.”  
  
Matt flipped him a V, then gathered his shirt from the kitchen counter and turned toward the hall.  
  
“Well, I get the shower first, so you’ll just have to sit in your own filth for a while longer,” he replied. “As punishment.”  
  
Dom shook his head, smiling, and pulled his own shirt off as Matt exited the room. He took an experimental sniff of the fabric and wrinkled his nose; he _did_ stink too, Matt was right. And his skin was still sticky with sweat, so he wanted nothing more than a long, cool shower. But Matt had beaten him to it, the little bastard.  
  
Besides that, he wanted the shower to satiate the hunger that had started burning in his body and niggling at the corners of his mind over the last couple of hours. All the exertion and heat had filled him so full of testosterone that it had created a primal itch he wanted to scratch.  
  
As he looked down at his bare chest and arms, he could see the way the skin had become flushed at his biceps, navel and across his sternum, and the how his muscles had swelled beneath the surface. He could feel every hair on his body standing on end, as well as the familiar pull of want growing in his abdomen.  
  
Dom let out a sigh and bit his lip, eyes dragging across to the hall. God knew how long Matt would be in the bathroom – probably longer than normal just to irritate him – and the drummer was feeling far too impatient.  
  
He strode across the kitchen and headed down the hall, pushing open the door to the spare bedroom and then locking it behind him. Dom leant back against the wood and made quick work of unbuttoning his shorts, diving a hand inside to remove his length from his briefs. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes, feeling himself quickly grow firm beneath his fingers.  
  
Physical exertion always did this to him – the chemicals that rushed through his bloodstream and soaked the neurons in his brain made him horny beyond belief – something he’d dampened in the past either with groupies or Jess. But here on the island there was little on offer, and Dom barely spent time with anyone other than Matt to even know where to start looking. So he was left to himself, sneaking an indulgence where he could get it, which was difficult in itself because of his constant companionship with Matt. It had been far too long between drinks and today Dom was desperate for it, letting out a quiet moan as he dragged damp fingers along himself, beginning impatient strokes. He knew this wouldn’t take long at all.  
  
He let his mouth fall open to draw in rapid breaths, the fire in his belly already beginning to rage, and his legs shuddered slightly with the effort of thrusting his pelvis up toward his hand.  
  
A million filthy thoughts filled his head; breasts, arse, snatch of all the women he’d slept with and played with. How they’d played with him, sucked on him, and even occasionally penetrated him when he’d been feeling particularly deviant. And, _oh God_ , the images and sounds of those memories made his head spin and hand speed up its motions. He let himself slip into the sexual reverie, his eyelids fluttering.  
  
A particular conquest came back to him. A fan from back in the early days, she was all bright blue eyes, short hair and thin limbs; no curves to speak of but unusual in the bedroom, and happy to try anything and everything with him. He’d never forgotten the way she’d keened and moaned under him in the tour bus as he’d taken her every which way, and how she’d coaxed him into her mouth after he’d come to make him hard again so they could start over. Even thinking of her dark head between his legs now made him gasp for breath, and the motion of his hand became erratic, the knot in his belly wound tight.  
  
Dom ran his thumb over those places on his length that made him shudder, tracing slow strokes to heighten his arousal, a groan gathering in his throat at the sensation. He was so close already and didn’t want to hold on, his yearning for orgasm driving him madder by the second.  
  
The fingernails of his other hand scraped along the wood of the door behind him, his heart pounding in his ears as he slipped closer and closer to the knife-edge. His body was trembling now, and Dom could hear the voice of that conquest in his head, clear as day. She called his name over and over as he buried himself inside her, lost in the urgency of animal lust.  
  
 _Dom. Dom. Dom. Dom._  
  
“Dom?”  
  
Matt’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door, but it was too late; Dom was coming. A blissful “ _fuck_ ” escaped his lips as he released in wet ribbons over his hand and belly, his mind and body flooding with the sensations he’d craved. He rode the orgasm out to it’s very last spark of pleasure, squeezing hard with his hand to wring every drop from himself.  
  
Dom shivered and let his head loll back to rest against the door. After a moment, he opened his eyes, lids still heavy and breaths deep and hard in his chest. He felt sleepy and satiated, body warm all over, and couldn’t help the lazy smile that pulled onto his lips.  
  
There was a soft knock at the door, and Matt’s voice emerged again.  
  
“Dom...?”  
  
Dom sighed, reluctantly bringing himself back to reality.  
  
“Hang on a sec,” he called.  
  
He pushed himself off the door onto slightly shaky legs and unwrapped his sticky hand from the softness now present within, eyes searching for a solution to his mess. There were no tissues in this bedroom, so he’d have to do with his discarded t-shirt; it needed washing anyway. When he’d had a satisfactory wipe-down, he rearranged his briefs and buttoned his shorts back up. He ran a hand through his damp, mussed hair, and took a deep breath.  
  
With what he believed to be his most innocent smile, Dom opened the door to greet Matt. Clearly it wasn’t convincing enough, because Matt’s eyes tracked over him for a moment before his eyebrow arched and his nose twitched in suspicion.  
  
“I was going to ask what you were doing in there, but I can _see_ it – ” Matt’s voice then lowered a tone, “– and _smell_ it, on you.”  
  
For a moment, Dom contemplated denying it, but instead gave a lazy shrug, a guilty grin breaking out on his face.  
  
“ _Fucking hell_ , Dom.”  
  
Dom looked down at his belly, swiping a hand across the skin.  
  
“See it?” he asked. “Did I miss a bit?”  
  
“Not like _that_ , you twat,” Matt giggled. “I meant, see it in your demeanour.”  
  
Dom snagged his bottom lip between his teeth, still smiling.  
  
“I’m that obvious?”  
  
Matt snorted.  
  
“That grin of yours is like the cat that got the fucking cream,” he informed him. “Plus, you _do_ look like you just got laid. I know that face, y’know.”  
  
Dom decided to play it nonchalant, eyebrows rising a little.  
  
“I’ve got a demanding libido,” he stated. “Sometimes it needs relief. And there aren’t many options out here.”  
  
Matt let out another giggle, his fingers scratching absently at his bare neck.  
  
“I didn’t say you shouldn’t do it. I was just making an observation of the state you’re in.”  
  
Dom quirked an eyebrow.  
  
“I’m only in a _state_ because you snuck into the shower before me. Otherwise I’d have done it in there,” he told him.  
  
Matt smiled sheepishly, his lids coming down low and gaze drawn to one side.  
  
“Great minds then, eh?” he murmured.  
  
Dom looked at him for a moment and then started chuckling, shaking his head.  
  
“You too?”  
  
Matt gave a small shrug, a blush colouring his cheeks.  
  
“Like you said, not many options, is there?” He paused a moment before elaborating in a lower voice. “And the physical effort of cycling gives me such a fucking hard-on sometimes.”  
  
He rubbed idly at his crotch before bursting into giggles. Dom’s eyebrows shot up and he started laughing in disbelief.  
  
“Bloody hell, Matt,” he murmured. “And you call _me_ a pervert.”  
  
Matt’s gaze came up to meet Dom’s, his blue eyes sharp and a grin on his face.  
  
“I never said _I_ wasn’t,” he replied.  
  
Dom mirrored his grin. He ran another hand through his hair, his fingers twitching.  
  
“So, feel like a post-orgasm cigarette, then?” he asked.  
  
Matt’s eyes lit up.  
  
“Fuck yes.”  
  
“Alright, I’m just going to rinse off, and I’ll meet you out on the balcony, yeah?”  
  
“Alright.”  
  
Matt turned and wandered up the hall, heading towards the lounge and kitchen.  
  
Dom followed a moment later but veered towards the bathroom. He decided to leave the spare bedroom door open behind him; he knew Matt wouldn’t appreciate it smelling like sex for the rest of the day, if he didn’t.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boundaries are pushed further, and Dom thinks about life back in England.

Dom shifted in his hazy womb of sleep, pressing his face against the warmth underneath it and stretching his legs across. He tangled them sluggishly in what he presumed was the sheet, and stretched an arm further over, material bunching in his hand. He didn’t want to get up yet; it was so warm and comfortable there.  
  
His thoughts drifted slowly, only half in consciousness, and a gentle tingling sensation washed over his skin as his mind and body remained in this woolly limbo. His breathing was relaxed, a quiet hum escaping his throat on the third exhale, and he nuzzled up slightly to rest his face in a dip.  
  
He was vaguely aware of an answering hum, and the cosy presence he was partially lying on shifted a little underneath him. Frowning at the disturbance, he squirmed, fabric knotting tighter in his fingers and feet sliding down to press against the bare skin of another set. In the back of his head, a little voice alerted him to the fact that there was another person in bed with him, but the revelation didn’t completely register for a few moments.  
  
When it did, the thought swirled in his mind, trying to fight through the sleep-induced haze to make sense of why he was asleep with someone else, and who it might be. Still only barely registering that something could possibly be amiss, Dom cracked an eyelid, shapes slowly coming into focus in front of him.  
  
He was met with a stretch of pale skin and smatter of brown hair, the identity of the owner quickly rocketing to the forefront of his mind. Oh, right; he remembered now.  
  
With an embarrassed flush rising in his cheeks, Dom shifted his head back to find a pair of glazed blue eyes staring back at him. An amused, sleepy smile spread itself across Matt’s face and he stretched an arm up lazily, resting his hand behind his head. A smudge of dark hair peeked out from under the sleeve of that arm, contrasting against the pale expanse of Matt’s skin. Dom’s eyes tracked to the other shoulder, noticing that his own body lay across Matt’s other arm as it arched out across the bed and curled slightly around his back.  
  
Extricating his legs from Matt’s with an awkward grunt, he shuffled himself backward and removed his other arm from where it was wedged between their chests, fingers splayed out across the side of Matt’s ribs. He fidgeted for a few moments to place himself at a more comfortable distance, though he noted that Matt made no attempt to withdraw his arm from under Dom’s back, but instead just shifted it down to sit lower around his waist.  
  
“Morning,” Matt yawned nonchalantly.  
  
Rubbing a hand over his face, both to wake himself up and in an attempt to stifle his embarrassment, Dom blinked quickly and smiled sheepishly. He was getting so used to sleeping with someone else in the bed again that he was slipping back into old habits, like gravitating toward the warm body lying next to him. He’d always been a bit sentimental in that way; physical closeness like cuddling and spooning was something he had a soft spot for, and had never shied away from with Jess or previous girlfriends. Even in the earlier days, he let groupies wind their limbs amongst his after sex, if they chose to stick around that long.  
  
However, his fondness for physicality other than sex was something he was reluctant to admit to Matt, or any of his other male friends. Dom wasn’t sure they’d understand, and would think him girlish or soft. Granted, they thought that anyway, ribbing him about his fashion sense and pride in his appearance, but this was different. It was more personal, and often felt like one of the last few quirks about himself that he still kept a secret. Lord knew Matt, Chris and Tom had become familiar with just about every other damn thing about him by now.  
  
“Erm, morning.”  
  
And now he’d all but ruined that secrecy by snuggling up to Matt in his sleep, and waking with his head on Matt’s chest and fingers tangled in his t-shirt. Matt probably thought him quite the peculiar friend, and would likely give him an earful later about being soppy and cuddly. True, Matt had always been a tactile sort of person himself in the past, not shy about slipping arms around people’s waists or onto Dom’s neck. But somehow that seemed different. Dom still wasn’t quite sure of the boundaries between them, and didn’t want to scare off his bandmate with too much affection.  
  
“Sorry, I forgot where I was for a bit, not really awake,” Dom explained, his words coming out slowly, clumsily. “Didn’t realise I was that close to you, and um...”  
  
“Cuddling me?” Matt finished with an amused grin.  
  
Dom groaned inwardly and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. To others, it might not seem an entirely big deal for him to be touchy-feely with Matt this way, given their past and strength of friendship. Chris and Tom had commented frequently on their physical interaction with one another; the poking, prodding, squeezing, biting, leaning, jumping, fighting, wrestling and all the rest of it, had been going on for years. But it had always been playful, and in a way, a means of keeping Matt at arm’s length. Some things they couldn’t express in words, and it was just easier to cover and distract with a quip and a prod.  
  
So this level of closeness again, this exposure of vulnerability, was new between them and Dom wasn’t sure exactly how to play it. He didn’t want to ruin things by being too confrontational with his emotions, despite Matt’s willingness to open up over the last few weeks.  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
Dom opened his eyes to see Matt glancing over at him, unconcerned. The brunette shrugged and scratched idly at his messy locks.  
  
“Hey, doesn’t bother me. Felt kind of nice actually; having someone to wake up with again, even though you’re hairier and more mannish than I usually prefer.”  
  
Matt giggled and squeezed at Dom’s side with the hand that was still wrapped around his waist. Squirming at the contact, Dom couldn’t help the grin that split across his face, and relief washed over him at Matt’s indifferent attitude.  
  
Dom rolled over onto his back, shifting his body so he wasn’t at such an awkward angle, and allowing himself to return to a closer proximity to Matt. In turn, Matt manoeuvred his arm to a more comfortable position, his hand coming to rest in the small of Dom’s back, where he spread out his fingers.  
  
Dom wondered if he’d perhaps misjudged Matt, and assumed him to be more narrow-minded and petty than he actually was. It was a harsh assessment, but more of a reflection on himself than Matt personally. Part of it was a defence mechanism; no matter how close you became to someone, and how much you learnt to trust them, there was always that tiny possibility, however remote, that they would _not_ understand and think badly of you. But also, Dom knew he and Matt had drifted apart over the last few years, and only recently were synching back into their old roles as dependent best friends. Matt wasn’t the same person he’d been back then, he’d said so himself, and Dom figured they might not have exactly the same connection and level of acceptance they’d once shared.  
  
But Matt’s relaxed demeanour now suggested otherwise. He seemed unperturbed by the slip over the line of their normal physical contact into something more intimate, and even seemed to appreciate it to some extent. Could it be that the enigmatic Mister Bellamy was a soppy cuddler in bed too? Dom thought it unlikely, but still amusing to ponder.  
  
“What are you thinking about?”  
  
Dom turned his head at Matt’s quiet voice next to him.  
  
“Nothing much. Why?”  
  
“You’ve got a smirk on your face.”  
  
Dom’s smirk turned into a soft smile.  
  
“I’m not allowed to?”  
  
“Usually means you’re up to something.” Matt narrowed his eyes. “What are you planning?”  
  
Dom chuckled.  
  
“Nothing. I was just thinking about things.”  
  
“What things?”  
  
Dom raised an eyebrow.  
  
“You’re nosey this morning.”  
  
Matt shrugged, a half-smile pulling at the side of his mouth.  
  
“Maybe you’re just quiet.”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
Matt watched him expectantly.  
  
“It’s not normal.”  
  
Dom chuckled.  
  
“You’re saying I talk too much?”  
  
“No, you know what I mean; you usually speak your mind.”  
  
Dom shrugged.  
  
“In a mood, I suppose.”  
  
“PMS?” Matt asked, his grin wicked.  
  
Dom snorted and nudged him with his elbow.  
  
“Wanker.”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
The blonde tilted his head and threw Matt a mischievous look.  
  
“I know that for a fact now,” Dom pointed out, grinning.  
  
Matt blushed and Dom laughed, shaking his head.  
  
“I can’t believe you still get embarrassed about that. I don’t give a shit, you know.”  
  
“Well _I_ do,” Matt said defensively.  
  
“Why?”  
  
Matt stared at him as though the answer should be obvious.  
  
“Because it’s _private_ ,” he said emphatically. “And not just in the don’t-tell-everyone kind of way; it should be something that’s kept completely to yourself.”  
  
Dom’s brows furrowed in confusion.  
  
“But you’re always taking the piss out of me for wanking in the tour bus toilet, and things like that.”  
  
“But I’m only joking when I say those things; I don’t actually mean them, or believe it. It’s not real – it’s just pissing about. Talking seriously about doing it in real life is different. It shouldn’t be up for public discussion.”  
  
“I don’t really understand why though. Everybody does it, Matt. Nobody cares.”  
  
“ _I_ care.”  
  
Dom sighed and pulled away from Matt a little to stretch across the bed.  
  
“Alright, fair enough,” he conceded. “But just so you know, I don’t care if you talk about it.”  
  
“I won’t be doing that. What the fuck would I say anyway?”  
  
Dom’s grin turned feral and he tipped his head to one side, fiddling with his bed-mussed hair with his fingers.  
  
“I don’t know. Could tell me how you do it; give me tips.”  
  
Matt gave him an incredulous stare.  
  
“ _Tips?_ ” Matt squeaked.  
  
“I’m always keen to improve. Got any good suggestions?”  
  
Matt’s cheeks coloured and he shifted upright in the bed, flustered.  
  
“Piss off, don’t be such a pervert. I said I wasn’t going to talk to you about those things. So stop it.”  
  
Dom grinned, pushing himself into sitting position and slapping Matt lightly in the arm.  
  
“I know, I’m only teasing you, you tit.”  
  
Matt ran a hand over his face and threw Dom a half-hearted scowl.  
  
“It’s not funny.”  
  
“Yeah it is. That’s the point; masturbation is funny.”  
  
“You laugh while you’re doing it, do you?”  
  
Dom rolled his eyes.  
  
“Come on, Matt. You know what I mean. It’s an unimportant thing we do to gain relief when we’re horny. It’s just a funny human habit. And I’m sure we all _look_ funny when we do it.”  
  
Matt fell silent at this, his gaze tracking away to the gap in the curtains where the morning light was spilling in. The sharp profile of his nose and jaw seemed softened in the glow of the sun, and Dom noticed the way some strands of his hair were still radiant from the highlights he used to have. The drummer watched him for a few moments more, curious about the wistful expression on the frontman’s face. Then his own smile faded and he furrowed his brow a little, reaching a hand out to Matt.  
  
“Alright?”  
  
Matt turned his head, snapping out of his reverie. He threw Dom a slightly bewildered look, smiling strangely, and nodded. He rubbed at his face again before replying.  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Talking about that stuff just makes me uncomfortable, y’know?”  
  
Dom gave him a soft smile and nodded.  
  
“I know. Sorry. Like I said, I’m in a weird mood, I suppose.”  
  
Matt lifted his arms and leaned back against the headboard, stretching and letting out a loud yawn. He rubbed at his already dishevelled hair and threw the sheet off himself.  
  
“It’s alright. You’re allowed to be,” he replied.  
  
He arched his back again slightly, sitting up.  
  
“I guess we should get up and get breakfast.”  
  
Dom shrugged.  
  
“I’m not really that hungry yet,” he said. “And I feel like going for a walk, to be honest. Clear my head.”  
  
As Matt climbed out of bed and began to hunt for a clean shirt and shorts, he flicked a concerned glance over to the drummer.  
  
“You okay? I mean, I know you’re feeling a bit strange, but it’s nothing too bad, is it?”  
  
Dom shook his head and slid his own feet out of the bed and onto the carpet, smiling a little.  
  
“No, it’s nothing serious. Just need some time alone, y’know?”  
  
Matt smiled before pulling his bed shirt off and replacing it with a clean day shirt.  
  
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “Well, I’m going to make breakfast. I’ll leave you some for when you get back, yeah?”  
  
Dom’s eyebrows went up but he decided against mentioning the uncommon occurrence of Matt making breakfast voluntarily.  
  
“Sounds good.”  
  
Dom stood up and started to fish for his own clothes amongst the many of Matt’s scattered about the room.  
  
*  
  
The sand was warm on the surface as Dom stepped down off the path steps, heated by the early morning sun. But as soon as he pressed his feet in deeper and took a few steps forward, the chilly grains underneath the first layer rushed upon the sensitive arches of his feet and beneath his toes. It took him a moment to get used to the temperature, the sudden chill sending a quick shiver up his spine and making the hairs on his arms stand on end. But soon the warm morning breeze and soft sun rays wrapped around him, quickening his acclimation.  
  
The nights had been slightly cooler recently, but of course nothing close to what he would term as cold. He was subject to the changes of the ocean weather here, but the worst it ever got was turbulent winds; even when it rained, it was still warm. Such a contrast to the biting coastal weather of Teignmouth, where the winds ripped right through you and the raindrops were like icy needles penetrating your skin. As nostalgic as he got about his home town, that he certainly didn’t miss.  
  
  
 _“Get back in here you nutters!”  
  
Chris bellowed out from around the doorway, the dingy wooden panels of the jetty shelter he and Tom were huddled in not doing much except keep the rain off them. His voice was half-lost in the wind that tore along the coast that evening, bringing with it the occasional sheets of chilled, pinprick rain.  
  
He shook his head as the two figures standing out unprotected on the wood ignored him, the gale whipping their long dark brown and blonde hair across their faces and around their necks.  
  
The blonde stared out at the dismal, rough waves that buffeted the coast, lifting icy fingers up to tuck several strands of hair ineffectually behind his ears. He licked his lips and rubbed at his partially numb nose before pulling his jacket tighter around him.  
  
He reached a hand out to pry a half-empty bottle of bourbon from the long fingers of the figure next to him.  
  
Matt turned his head, half-grinning, before releasing the bottle, his cheeks and nose flushed pink from the chill.  
  
“We did well, yeah?” he said. “Didn’t fuck up too much this time, and that new amp was alright.”  
  
Dom nodded, taking a swig from the bottle, the harsh taste unpleasant in his mouth but warming him nicely on its way down his throat.  
  
He knew what Matt was talking about without any preamble; the future of the band had been on all of their minds recently. The gigs were getting more frequent now, and in slightly larger towns, like the most recent up at Torquay. Each time they performed, Dom felt them growing more confident and cohesive, and he knew Matt sensed the growing momentum of their lives more than anyone.  
  
He took another swig before handing the bottle back to Matt. He leaned over, pulling back Matt’s long hair to speak into his ear.  
  
“Yeah, but I think we need more of a crowd than a few of our mates head-banging up the front,” Dom said with a wry grin. “Not exactly the hundreds of groupies I was hoping for.”  
  
Matt necked a couple of long gulps and then swiped his hair out of his face again. He shivered and pulled the zip up higher on his jacket, despite it already being sodden from the intermittent rain and sea spray.  
  
Dom had reluctantly joined him away from the cover of the shelter when it was clear he intended to stand out there for some time, regardless of what the others were doing. Chris often mocked him for pandering to Matt’s insanities, but recklessness had always been alluring to him.  
  
Besides, Matt had the bourbon.  
  
“Not yet, no, but there’ll be plenty of that to come, don’t worry,” Matt replied, his alcohol-soaked breath warm on Dom’s face. “Before you know it, we’ll have gigs coming out our ears and hundreds of fans beating down the doors of our expensive hotel rooms.”  
  
Dom laughed as Matt threw him a wry grin. It was always like this; Matt dead-panning comments about their success as a band because he never really believed it was going to go anywhere. Dom knew Matt loved what they did, but didn’t have delusions of grandeur; he was just happy to get the chance to play in public at all.  
  
“Well that’s no comfort right now to my dick, mate,” Dom replied, with a grin. “Being in a band is supposed to get me laid, and there hasn’t been nearly enough of that yet.”  
  
Matt giggled, relinquishing his grip on the bottle again and handing it to Dom.  
  
“Everything’s always about your dick, isn’t it? I’m surprised you can stop thinking about it long enough to concentrate on playing drums,” Matt teased, a mischievous smirk on his bluing lips. “And didn’t you pull some bird after the gig on Saturday anyway? How often does it need seeing to, really?”  
  
Dom chuckled, a smug grin stretching across his face.  
  
“I’m a strapping sixteen year old, I have needs,” he replied. “So, as often as I can get it.”  
  
Matt rolled his eyes, grin still firmly in place.  
  
“Fine, well then we’ll just have to work harder to get more songs together,” he said. “Once we break London, we should have enough fans for you to get laid all you like. That sound good?”  
  
The wind had slowed a little, but now the rain started up again, and Dom took in the form of his best friend on this dreary evening. Matt’s hair was plastered to his head and the side of his face, and despite his preference for baggy jeans and jacket, his scrawny figure was easily discernable as the wind pulled the fabrics around his bony body. His skin looked even paler than usual, save for his reddened nose and cheeks, and Dom wondered if Matt would catch the flu from this. It wouldn’t be the first time.  
  
“But you’re right, it should be sooner rather than later; the faster we get out of this rat-arse town, the better,” Matt continued. “We’ll get a place in London and be able to show this whole fucking town just what we can do.”  
  
Dom raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Next stop, Reading then, eh?” he teased.  
  
Matt rolled his eyes, smirking.  
  
“Not quite. Maybe though. Someday, I guess. One of the smaller stages even, would be nice, yeah?”  
  
Smiling, Dom attempted to smooth back his sodden locks and wiped the rain out of his eyes. He draped an arm around Matt’s shoulders, pulling the small figure closer as he spoke.  
  
“Yeah. Would be good. I reckon we’d do alright.”  
  
Matt had an ambition about him that Dom had never witnessed in anyone else. If there was the slightest chance their band could ever get off the ground, the drummer was sure it would be through Matt’s sheer bloody-mindedness. Not to mention his sometimes breath-taking creativity when it came to music.  
  
Matt’s slight form huddled against him, his free hand slipping through a gap in Dom’s jacket to weasel into the warm space between fabric layers. He coughed slightly, wiping at his nose with his sleeve.  
  
Dom almost choked on the remnants of the bourbon as he felt long, icy fingers sneak underneath his shirt to press against his contrastingly heated skin. He heard Matt giggle mischievously, both hands remaining firmly in place to steal warmth, as Dom yelped and tried to remove them.  
  
“Fuck, your hands are freezing, you bastard,” he cursed.  
  
“I know, because you’re so warm,” Matt informed him. “It’s your own fault.”  
  
Dom laughed, chucking the empty bottle over the pier and into the angry waves below.  
  
“Well, let’s go back inside before I freeze to death, thanks to you,” he said. “I think Tom and Chris will be pissed off we drank all the bourbon.”  
  
Matt shrugged, not yet moving from his spot.  
  
“Fuck ‘em,” he said. “They’ve got beer. The good stuff’s for me and you.”  
  
Dom grinned, turning toward the shelter, ushering Matt with him using the arm still wrapped around him. He felt Matt rest a lazy head on his shoulder as they stumbled back, steps wavering from side to side as the alcohol began to take hold.  
  
Dom’s foot slipped on the wet wood and he lost his balance, falling backwards slightly. But the hands under his shirt were quick enough and grabbed him tightly, bringing him back upright.  
  
“Clumsy twat,” Matt murmured with a smile.  
  
“Fuck you,” Dom grinned back._  
  
  
Not that London was much better. It lacked the English Channel winds, but didn’t really get much sunnier, and the overcast skies looked infinitely more depressing against the glass and concrete of the metropolis. Granted, he didn’t live there for the weather, and he could easily escape to somewhere more pleasant whenever he wanted, like now.  
  
He didn’t see himself going back any time soon. Before, it had always seemed like there was something to go back to; girlfriend, friends, night-life, whatever. But when Matt had moved to Italy and the band had become increasingly successful, their circle of friends had grown smaller and smaller or divided off into settled-down couples.  
  
Now that he and Jess had called it quits, Dom felt he didn’t quite fit in as he did before; he would always be the third, or fifth, or even seventh wheel, and likely the one drinking the most. There were few others that would be up for big nights of drinking, pulling women and talking shit, because everyone else was all grown up and responsible now. He didn’t know how he’d gotten to this stage; it seemed like he’d missed the memo that had told everyone what they should be doing with their personal lives.  
  
Dom supposed that was the reason he felt so comfortable on this island, and was reluctant to leave. He knew it was escapist, and that eventually he’d have to face real life back in London, but for now he could live in blissful denial. Besides, Matt was doing it too, and they both needed some time to heal away from the madness of the rest of the world.  
  
The blonde sat down on the sand and closed his eyes. He listened to the sound of the ocean lapping upon the shore; there were no real waves to speak of, just water gently ebbing and flowing in a slow rhythm. The smell of salt was light on the breeze, and far off he could hear a sea bird calling every now and then. The sun still kept him warm without being a searing heat, and Dom’s shoulders sagged to shift the weight of his upper body onto his loosely drawn-up knees. He rested his brow upon his forearms and let his mouth fall open.  
  
Dom stayed like this for several long minutes, thoughts swimming into and out of his head with little purpose. He’d never really been one to over-think things; he left that up to Matt, much preferring to act on emotion and let his instincts guide him. That was what had been the most unnerving part of the last weeks of his relationship; he’d worried, stewed and turned things over and over in his mind until they barely made sense anymore. He’d almost driven himself mad overanalysing it all.  
  
Now it was over, he could return to a more relaxed state of mind. Dom was slipping back into the persona he’d had before he was with Jess, which he supposed should make him carefree like he’d been back then. And yet, he knew he could never truly go back to who he’d been. So much had happened; he could never look at anyone or anything the same way again. But maybe that was a good thing. He could start anew, and decide for himself who he wanted to be and what he wanted to do.  
  
Opening his eyes and lifting his head, Dom let a small smile curl upon his lips. He dusted off the sand from his hands and stood up, an odd warm feeling of excitement growing in his belly. The future ahead of him suddenly didn’t seem so bleak and purposeless; it was time for new beginnings.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris arrives and things are set into motion, more so than Dom or Matt realise.

Dom stirred amongst the tangled sheet of the bed, his arm stretching out unconsciously across the mattress. Immediately noticing the lack of usual contact, he opened his eyes to find Matt’s form strangely absent. It was normally he who got up first, Matt loathe to make haste in prying himself from the warmth and comfort of the bed. Memories of the numerous times he’d attempted to rouse a still half-asleep Bellamy from this bed, only to be greeted by bleary eyes and a petulant expression made Dom smile.  
  
Still only vaguely conscious himself this time and not particularly bothered about what Matt was up to, he allowed himself to drift, closing his eyes and pressing his head back down into the softness of the pillow. The room was bathed in soft daylight, though not bright or too warm yet, so Dom supposed it was still early morning. He’d heard footsteps and Matt shuffling about in the house earlier, but now came the dim noise of voices from somewhere beyond the bedroom door. He ignored them and dozed for a few minutes, until they grew louder and the door clicked open.  
  
Dom turned over, opening his eyes a crack. He could make out Matt’s form and the head of their bassist poking through the doorway.  
  
“I thought you said this was your room?” he heard Chris’s confused query.  
  
“It is,” came Matt’s equally perplexed reply.  
  
The door then closed again, leaving the drummer in peace.  
  
Dom hadn’t realised Chris was arriving that day, and clearly Matt hadn’t bothered to wait for him to get up to give the bassist the grand tour of their holiday house.  
  
He stretched out and yawned, rolling to one side of the bed to find a t-shirt and shorts to wear. Once he’d showered and groomed himself, Dom emerged from the bedroom to greet Chris properly.  
  
He and Matt were sitting in the lounge drinking beer and wine respectively, and Matt had filled one of their glass bowls with crisps to snack on.  
  
“Morning,” Dom greeted.  
  
“Hey mate, long time no see,” Chris said, getting up from his seat.  
  
He strode over to Dom and wrapped him in a bear hug, slapping his back affectionately. Dom grinned, giving him a brief hug in return before joining Matt on the settee. Matt shifted his legs up off the floor to rest them in Dom’s lap, with the drummer shooting him a pained, irritated look as his heels knocked him in the nuts. Matt smiled sheepishly, carefully rearranging his feet into a more comfortable position for his best friend.  
  
“So, how’s the entourage?” Dom asked, turning his attention to Chris. “They all end up coming over as well?”  
  
Chris nodded, taking another swig of his beer and toeing off his trainers.  
  
“Yeah, we’re renting a place down the road for a few weeks,” he explained. “We only got in yesterday afternoon, and the kids have already been swimming three times. If it was up to them, I don’t think we’d ever leave.”  
  
A broad grin stretched across his face, his eyes dancing as he spoke of his family, and Dom couldn’t help his own smile at seeing Chris like this. He’d never pictured Chris as the fatherly type when they were growing up; he was into heavy music, smoked like a chimney, and would drink whole bottles of liquor to himself, for a laugh. Anything Dom or Matt ever dared him to do, Chris would do, and never seemed entirely bothered about the consequences of anything.  
  
But when Kelly had fallen pregnant that first time, Chris had transformed. He was still all the things he’d been before, but a concerned, responsible, nurturing side emerged that Dom hadn’t seen previously. Perhaps it had always been there – it would certainly explain Kelly’s attraction and commitment to him – but in the context of Dom and Matt’s interaction with him as mates, Chris had never had the chance to show it. Nowadays, it was blindingly obvious how fiercely affectionate Chris was, and especially so anytime he was with or talked about his family.  
  
“Cool. So how d’you like our place then?” Dom asked. “It’s pretty nice, eh?”  
  
“I can’t believe you two are living together again,” Chris replied, rolling his eyes. “Like you didn’t already see and annoy the piss out of each other enough before. I hate to think what it’s going to be like when we go back on tour.”  
  
Dom looked over as Matt snorted and shrugged. The lithe singer had one arm arched behind his head, fingers scratching idly at the skin on the side of his neck. Dom noted he’d still not managed to develop any sort of tan, despite how long they’d been there now. He’d have to remember to tease Matt about that later, though inwardly he believed bronzed skin wouldn’t suit his best friend. The pale complexion, narrow frame, small stature and angular bones were quirks that made Matthew Bellamy who he was, and Dom wouldn’t change them even if he could.  
  
“Well, it’s been nearly twenty years and I haven’t killed him yet,” Matt said.  
  
Dom scoffed indignantly, but grinned anyway. Matt turned his head slightly to throw him a cheeky wink, grin firmly in place.  
  
“I live in hope,” Chris grinned. “Maybe then we can get a drummer who doesn’t dress like a complete queen.”  
  
“Oi, what is this?” Dom protested, a smile still playing on his lips. “I haven’t been up ten minutes and you’re both already taking the piss.”  
  
Chris laughed and Matt giggled, Dom rolling his eyes.  
  
“Only kidding, y’know,” Matt said, his eyes soft.  
  
Dom threw the brunette a wry smile.  
  
Chris paused, eyes on them, as he took another swig of his beer, then set the half-empty bottle back on the table.  
  
“So, what’s the plan?” he asked. “We going to jam out some stuff today?”  
  
Matt nodded, his fingers playing at the tip of Dom’s elbow. The blonde twitched, swallowing a giggle, and shot Matt a bemused look.  
  
“Yeah, absolutely. We’ve kitted out downstairs with the basics, as you know, so it’s ready to go when we are,” Matt replied. “Though I might record most of the piano back in London, cos the small one downstairs isn’t fantastic. Or we’ll have to work out how to rig the grand in the other room; the acoustics in there might be alright for some of it.”  
  
Matt’s fingers pressed in at Dom’s elbow again, and Dom jumped as they hit the nerves in his funny bone, sending odd tingling sensations up his arm. He pushed Matt in the side of the head, sniggering slightly, and murmuring a mirthful _fuck off_. Matt gave him a toothy grin.  
  
“Okay, I’ll let Kelly know, and her and the kids can meet me for lunch,” Chris said.  
  
“Well, they can all come over here and I’ll throw something together, if you like?” Dom suggested. “We’ve got plenty of food; it’d be nice to see them again.”  
  
“Ah, so you’re still playing wife then?” Chris teased.  
  
Matt giggled.  
  
“Wanker,” Dom replied with a smile.  
  
*  
  
As he’d guessed, Dom found himself infinitely more productive in the studio with Chris there. As usual, after only about half an hour of jamming together, suddenly everything shifted, and Dom could feel patterns and ideas starting to emerge in their sound. He and Matt showed Chris a few of the songs they’d been working on, and as soon as he got the feel for them, the bassist added his own take; the puzzle pieces were starting to fit.  
  
Over the next few days, some songs evolved dramatically away from where Matt had started them, but others simply became more fleshed out and took on firm identities. Dom could sense the growing momentum associated with the development of the new album, and started to see a subtle tone and vision taking shape. Of course, he’d known this time around it was going to vaguely be a concept album; Matt wouldn’t shut up about George Orwell’s novel _1984_ , and all the lyrics he’d shown them so far had been heavily associated with the themes of conspiracy and control.  
  
“But in there as well, there’s a love story, y’know?” Matt had explained. “Amidst all the bollocks of the outside world, the characters find each other. Unexpectedly, actually. There’s someone else they can talk to, bond with, and really feel something for. A kind of hope, yeah?”  
  
Dom had just nodded, smiling at Matt’s obsession with conspiracy but eternal search for good in that bleakness. He’d read the book some time ago, and to be honest, he could only remember the despair; of course he knew there was a love story in there, but he wasn’t really sure where Matt got the idea of hope.  
  
But regardless of where the inspiration came from, deep down Dom knew that this album was going to be different to anything they’d done before. Their work was always big; dramatic and ridiculous, but this time everything seemed so much larger than life, especially if Matt decided to include his symphony in it. The frontman was still undecided, and hadn’t even mentioned it in the studio until Dom had brought it up.  
  
“Well, I really like the riffs you’ve got so far,” Chris said, on one of the days they were working downstairs. “And the piano bits I’ve heard you play should balance it out pretty good.”  
  
Dom twirled a drumstick between his fingers and then stood up from behind his kit.  
  
“Yeah, especially if we end up putting the symphony in,” he piped up. “It would be a nice end to it all.”  
  
Chris glanced over at Matt, raising an eyebrow. Matt shifted his weight and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.  
  
“Is it going on this album, then?” Chris asked.  
  
Matt shrugged and threw Dom a mildly irritated look.  
  
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’ve got it right yet,” he replied. “I need to work on it a bit more, and test some of it with the strings back in London.”  
  
Dom gave Matt a warm smile, setting his sticks down and moving toward the door.  
  
“Well, what I’ve heard sounds brilliant so far,” he said, nodding to the stairs. “You should show Chris all of it on the grand upstairs, like you did me the other day.”  
  
Dom had spent the entire Sunday afternoon draped out across a beanbag in the sun room listening to Matt play classical pieces, including his original compositions. His symphony was starting to sound complete in terms of the parts he could play solely on piano, and Dom didn’t understand why Matt was reluctant to include it on the new album, or even play it to Chris now.  
  
Matt fidgeted and finally agreed after Chris pressed him for a few minutes more, and the three of them made their way upstairs. The room was bathed in the pale yellow glow of the late afternoon sunlight, sending out long shadows from the legs of the piano and stool, as well as the beanbag and armchair nearby. Matt settled himself behind the piano, while Dom flopped himself down on the beanbag and Chris leant against the piano, arms folded.  
  
Matt began the piece that was becoming increasingly familiar to Dom, and he closed his eyes to let the sounds wash over him. He knew the points of crescendo, as well as the slower, more reflective moments, but Dom’s body still responded as though hearing it for the first time. He was filled with waves of deep emotion and excitement, as his heart soared and he became light-headed, a smile stretching onto his face. Matt’s compositions did that to him sometimes.  
  
Matt took brief pauses between movements to explain to Chris how each would be filled out by different orchestral instruments, as he’d done with Dom a couple of weeks ago. Chris nodded encouragingly and expressed his liking for how it all sounded so far, even without the backing of strings.  
  
When Matt was done, Dom opened his eyes and pushed himself up off the beanbag. He slipped across to stand behind Matt at the piano stool and rested his hands on the smaller man’s shoulders.  
  
“So, what do you think?” he asked Chris. “Brilliant, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah, definitely,” Chris agreed. “I think it’ll fit in fine with everything else.”  
  
“See, I told you so,” Dom said to Matt, squeezing his shoulders affectionately. “It’s great; we need to put it in.”  
  
Matt tipped his head to glance warily at Dom.  
  
“We’ll see,” he replied.  
  
Dom grinned.  
  
“Nope, it’s two against one. Decision’s been made,” he teased.  
  
He pushed in with his fingers, giving the muscles of Matt’s shoulders a brief massage along to his neck and back again. He felt Matt sag in relaxation and his head tilted back ever so slightly to rest against Dom’s diaphragm. Dom was reminded of the previous week; the day he’d helped Matt work the knots from his muscles had stuck oddly in the drummer’s head. Matt’s voice interrupted his thoughts.  
  
“Shut it, git,” he said, grinning sloppily.  
  
Dom grinned again. Chris’s gaze shifted to Dom, then down to Matt, and back up again. He shrugged almost imperceptibly and then pushed himself off the piano lid to stand up straight.  
  
“Well, whatever we decide to do with that, I think we should definitely start recording some of the other songs now. Get it down altogether, to have a hard copy.”  
  
“You want to just record them as live takes, then?” Dom asked, furrowing his brow slightly. “I kind of thought we should work on them bit by bit; start from scratch with each instrument.”  
  
“Well, we can do that when we get back to England, yeah?” Chris suggested. “At least if we have the basic idea of how they’ll sound as a whole now, it’ll be easier to pull them apart later.”  
  
Dom tipped his head to one side, thinking. He glanced down as he felt Matt turn his head and lean back to look at Chris properly as he spoke.  
  
“Yeah. I like the sound of that. We can worry about details later. And having a playback will give us more perspective, y’know? Otherwise, sometimes I can’t see the bigger picture.”  
  
Dom gave a half-smile and nodded.  
  
“Yeah, alright. I’m happy with that,” he said.  
  
  
*  
  
Despite Matt’s willingness to show Chris his composition, and the bass player’s positive reaction, Dom could tell Matt wasn’t quite comfortable with the idea of it being on the new album just yet. The frontman never said anything outright; in fact, when either Dom or Chris mentioned it, Matt would just react as though they’d never said anything at all. From the outside, it seemed as though Matt was treating it as no big deal, and simply something they’d discuss and put together at a later date. But Dom knew better. He could sense Matt’s nervousness and the hesitation that surrounded this very personal creation of his, and that the apparently flippant attitude to it was just a front.  
  
It came out in small ways; Matt’s diminishing time spent on the grand, his avoidance of discussing what the album should end with, his sudden need for a coffee some mornings. They weren’t anything particularly important to anyone who didn’t know Matt that well, but seen as a whole by his best friends, they suggested something was slightly off. However, the most noticeable indicator for Dom came when they retired to bed for the night. Matt began to lie awake in the dark, silent and still for long periods of time, followed by tossing and turning for a few minutes and then more periods spent awake.  
  
On the second night, Dom spoke up, turning to face Matt, just able to make out his silhouette in the gloom.  
  
“You need to switch off, Matt,” Dom murmured, the hint of a smile in his voice.  
  
Matt let out a sigh, and tilted his head slightly in Dom’s direction.  
  
“I know – I know I do. I can’t.”  
  
Dom let the moment hang for a while before speaking again.  
  
“Thinking about the album?” he asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
“Mmhmm.”  
  
“The symphony?”  
  
Matt let out another long sigh, and turned onto his side to face Dom.  
  
“Yeah. I just keep going over and over bits of it in my head, trying to work out how to put it all together, and how – if at all – it’s going to fit in with anything else we’re doing.”  
  
Dom smiled, reaching a hand out in the dark until he bumped into Matt’s arm. He wrapped his fingers around the brunette’s forearm and gave it a squeeze.  
  
“You’ll find a way; you always do.”  
  
He heard Matt exhale slowly through his nose, his hand coming up to rest over Dom’s.  
  
“I dunno. I’m still not sure. About the whole piece, I mean.”  
  
Dom sighed a small laugh, and lifted his other hand up to ruffle the front of Matt’s hair affectionately.  
  
“Don’t be daft. It’s amazing.”  
  
Matt gave a soft snort. Dom smiled and then bit his lip, thinking.  
  
“And so are _you_ ,” he added quietly.  
  
Matt snorted more loudly at this, fidgeting and shaking his head in embarrassment.  
  
“Now I _know_ you’re winding me up,” Matt replied.  
  
He extricated his arm from Dom’s grip, shuffling away a little, but the drummer caught him and pulled him back as he went to turn away.  
  
“I’m not; I meant it,” Dom chuckled. “And you know I did, otherwise you wouldn’t be trying to escape. Running away from emotions again.”  
  
Matt huffed and allowed Dom to take him in an embrace, which Dom guessed was more out of stubbornness and trying to prove him wrong than anything else. The smaller man settled onto his side, his back against Dom’s ribcage with the drummer’s arm draped loosely over his own.  
  
“I’m not running away, actually. I just – I can’t tell when you’re being serious sometimes, y’know? And I’m not used to all that girly bollocks; emotions and things.”  
  
Dom tutted, chuckling, and then pinched Matt’s arm in retaliation. The frontman let out a small squeak of protest, but there was a grin on his lips as he turned his head slightly to look at Dom behind.  
  
“You know I’d never joke about the important stuff. When I compliment you, I mean it. Alright?”  
  
Matt nodded, and though Dom couldn’t see much in the dim room, he knew it was likely Matt was blushing. Dom fidgeted for a moment to extricate his trapped arm and slid it under Matt’s neck. Dom felt the brunette relax against him, and he leaned away a little to let Matt drop some of his weight back.  
  
Dom left his eyes open, examining the shadows on the ceiling and walls of the room, and just listened to the sound of Matt’s breathing in the stillness. After a few minutes, the rise and fall of his best friend’s ribcage settled to a slower rhythm and Dom smiled slightly, knowing he’d fallen asleep. Not wanting to wake Matt and have him thinking too much again, Dom didn’t bother to move away, but instead let his body relax and thoughts drift.  
  
He stayed awake a little while longer, thinking about the album, about Matt, and about all the things the two of them had been through recently. It wasn’t worrying – he’d made his peace with a lot of the problems to do with Jess and relationships, and now could look upon everything from a slightly detached perspective. If anything, it was a curiosity; about how he would relate to everyone else now, because everything was different, especially himself. Dom had noticed it already with Matt; their relationship was different to anything it had been before, and still wasn’t quite clear yet, at least to Dom. But it was comfortable, and that was all that mattered to him right then, and he allowed his eyes to close, drifting off to sleep with that particular best friend snoring softly across his chest.  
  
*  
  
The following night was much the same; Matt couldn’t settle the thoughts in his head, but Dom did what he could to calm him. Basically, it involved shushing him and holding him still until he was quiet and didn’t have the energy to fight it anymore. The frontman grumbled, but ended up falling asleep on Dom’s arm that was curled under his shoulders, at which point Dom drifted off too.  
  
The night after took less convincing, as the drummer worked out that carding his fingers through Matt’s hair was a very efficient way to mute him, the brunette’s eyelids fluttering closed almost immediately at the motion. It made Dom smile, to have the power to render Matt basically helpless with such a small action, and he wondered how he, or anyone else, had never figured this out or exploited it before.  
  
He supposed Gaia had known about it, but he’d never been witness to much physical affection between them to see her use it on him. It wasn’t that Dom was uncomfortable with people being publicly affectionate in front of him; Chris and Kelly did it constantly and he never batted an eyelid. But it had been different with Matt and Gaia, as he’d always felt awkward when they were couple-y in his presence. Dom figured it was because Kelly had been around for so long, when the band was just taking off, but he hadn’t ever really known Gaia that well.  
  
Though Dom wondered if he _had_ known about Matt’s fondness for people touching his hair, and he’d simply forgotten. It wasn’t as though he’d really had the chance to do it much over the last few years, because that sort of physical closeness between them had disappeared, and would have only seemed awkward. Especially because Dom knew for a fact that Gaia had never really understood his and Matt’s close friendship, and no doubt frowned upon that sort of physical contact between men who were not related.  
  
By the fourth night, the intimate contact with Matt when they retired to bed had somehow become a routine. Dom didn’t even have to battle or bicker with the frontman anymore; Matt just slipped in close and waited for the drummer to soothe him. Dom carded his fingers through Matt’s hair a few times and let his arm fall across the singer’s shoulder. Then, not really thinking too hard, ended up curling his body around Matt’s slightly smaller one and reaching an arm around to hold his chest.  
  
After a moment, Dom realised what he was doing and slipped his arm back to his own body, shifting away a little. Matt turned his head slightly in the drummer’s direction, and then reached behind to take hold of Dom’s wrist and drag his arm back into its previous position. Matt’s fingers laced through his own and he pressed Dom’s hand against his ribcage, forcing the drummer back into close proximity.  
  
Dom took a breath to say something but thought better of it. Instead, he settled himself against Matt’s body, letting his face nestle in the back of the frontman’s hair. The smell of coconut was strong this close, though Dom found it comforting, his belly filling with a thick warmth. He exhaled a sigh, relaxing, and heard Matt do the same. He smiled.  
  
He knew this was odd, spooning his best friend at thirty years of age, but Dom realised he didn’t much care. No-one else was there to see them, and it was nobody’s business except their own. Dom believed Matt needed this to stop driving himself mad with musical obsessiveness, as well as perhaps leftover anxiousness about his break-up. The brunette needed love – he’d stated as much – and if he was happier to receive it physically, then Dom wouldn’t deny him.  
  
And as he closed his eyes and felt the thumping beat of Matt’s heart beneath his hand, Dom realised he craved this too. He wasn’t exactly sure why; if it was Matt psychoanalysing him he’d probably say something about an emotional proxy, but Dom really wasn’t bothered about the reasons. It was comfortable, it felt safe, and that was fine with him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris comments on Matt and Dom’s new-found closeness, but the remarks don’t go down well.

A few days later, Dom was in the studio with Chris, practising a section they were both struggling with in order to get it good enough to record. Matt already knew the guitar by heart for that particular song, so had quickly grown bored hanging around listening to them going over it again and again. He’d disappeared a couple of hours previously to go for a ride and a swim, and said he’d probably try to call his mum as well. Being out here, Dom knew the two of them sometimes forgot about the outside world a little, so it was important to check in with family and friends to keep connected.  
  
Chris rested his bass on his knees as they finished up, finally nailing the phrase that had been bothering them, with almost no mistakes.  
  
“Okay, I think that part sounds fine now,” he said. “We can probably lay it down anytime.”  
  
Dom nodded, placing his drumsticks on the snare and wiping a hand across his forehead.  
  
“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “I might give Matt a call, see where he’s at. I told him I’d help him with the market run this afternoon.”  
  
Chris raised an eyebrow, smirking.  
  
“I’m sure he can manage on his own,” he teased. “Besides, I thought you wanted to work on that end part again?”  
  
Dom shrugged, fiddling with his phone.  
  
“Yeah, I guess. But I did tell Matt I would help,” he said. “And we were going to head to the bay later to do some fishing.”  
  
Chris rolled his eyes.  
  
“Shit, you really can’t leave each other alone for five minutes,” he murmured, sniggering.  
  
Dom lifted his head, distracted momentarily.  
  
“Eh?”  
  
“You have to spend every waking moment with him.”  
  
“What? With who?”  
  
“Who do you think? Matt, you git,” Chris said in exasperation. “You’re attached at the bloody hip.”  
  
Frowning, Dom slipped his phone back in his pocket and rested his hands on his thighs, eyes on the bassist.  
  
“No, we’re not.” He paused. “But… so what?” he defended. “It’s nothing new.”  
  
Chris placed his bass on its stand, and leant against one of the amps.  
  
“You live together, eat together, and _sleep in the same bed_ for fuck’s sake,” he laughed. “You haven’t done that since we were kids.”  
  
Dom felt his stomach knot at Chris commenting on their sleeping arrangements; he’d already explained that the previous week, and didn’t know why Chris was bringing it up again.  
  
“Well, maybe I’m having a mid-life crisis or something,” he replied. “I like the support of my friends around me at the moment. And I told you, Matt’s presence is comforting while I sleep, because of Jess and everything.”  
  
Chris unfolded his arms, giving Dom a half-smile and raising an eyebrow.  
  
“But that was a while ago now, yeah?” he said carefully. “I’m not saying you haven’t had a tough time of it, but I would’ve thought by now you’d be able to cope without him around you twenty-four hours a day.”  
  
Dom’s anger flared at how difficult Chris was being about this – it wasn’t _that_ big a deal.  
  
“Don’t exaggerate,” he replied. “We’re not around each other that much.”  
  
“Yes you are.”  
  
“We are not.”  
  
“Are.”  
  
“Not!”  
  
Dom could see the amused smirk curling at the corners of Chris’s mouth, and realised the bassist was mostly doing this to wind him up. But he was surprised at himself about how much the suggestion, and implications, bothered him. He was determined to prove Chris wrong.  
  
“Believe what you want, but I don’t need to be around Matt twenty-four-seven,” he said. “I’m perfectly fine on my own, doing what _I_ want to do.”  
  
Pushing off the amp to stand up straight, Chris wandered over to the drum kit, a smug grin breaking out on his face.  
  
“So you’re not going to piss off to help Matt with the groceries now?” he taunted.  
  
Dom pushed his shoulders back, sitting up straight.  
  
“No… I’m going to stay and work on the end of this song,” he replied, indignation in his tone.  
  
“And you’re not going fishing with him this afternoon?”  
  
Dom hesitated, but then pressed his lips together.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Or cook his dinner for him?”  
  
“No, I’m not,” he said firmly.  
  
Dom could tell Chris was trying to hold in his laughter. It just made him want to dig his heels in even more.  
  
“Well, shouldn’t you call him and tell him that?” Chris prodded, eyes dancing with mischief.  
  
Dom narrowed his eyes, but shrugged, attempting to appear ambivalent.  
  
“He knows where I am,” he answered, jutting his lip out. “So, are we going to work on this end part now or what?”  
  
Chris smirked at him again, retrieving his bass to resume practice.  
  
*  
  
Matt called Dom later that day to ask where he’d been, and sounded quite miffed when Dom rejected his offer for fishing that afternoon. Dom didn’t give an explanation; he didn’t think he needed to. Matt wasn’t his bloody keeper, despite what Chris thought, and he was going to show Chris they didn’t always have to do _everything_ together.  
  
That night, when Matt yawned and indicated it was bedtime, Dom felt his ego arc up and stubbornness kick in. Standing up from the settee with Matt, he motioned toward the spare bedroom with one hand, the other rubbing at the back of his neck.  
  
“Erm, I’m going to sleep in the other room,” he muttered, not meeting Matt’s eyes. “Been too hot the last few nights.”  
  
Matt paused, confusion written all over his face.  
  
“Well, we can turn the air conditioning up if you want,” he replied. “I’ll just pull some more blanket over me if I get cold.” He lifted an eyebrow, a small smile on his lips. “Or just steal warmth from you.”  
  
Dom shrugged awkwardly, shaking his head.  
  
“No, that’s okay. I’ll just stay in there tonight.”  
  
“Really, it doesn’t matter. Turn up the air conditioning as high as you want. Or I’ll get the fan out – ”  
  
“Matt, _no_ ,” Dom interrupted, his tone harsher than he’d intended. “I just want to sleep on my own tonight, okay?”  
  
Matt was silent for a few moments, watching him carefully, his eyebrow still raised but smile gone.  
  
“Okay,” he said finally. “Night then.”  
  
He turned abruptly and slipped off down the hall, closing the bedroom door behind him none too quietly.  
  
Dom sighed, rubbing his face with one hand, an uncomfortable knot in his belly. He padded wearily over to the lamp to turn it off, then headed off in the darkness to the spare room.  
  
* * *  
  
The following days continued similarly. Dom stubbornly attempted to spend as much time as he could away from Matt, which often meant being alone, and would turn down nearly every offer Matt put forward for them to go fishing, cycling, swimming or snorkelling together. Each night he would retreat to the spare room to sleep, with Matt watching him quizzically, the smallest flash of hurt in his eyes.  
  
After a couple of days, Matt confronted him, stepping in front of Dom as he wandered into the kitchen for some breakfast.  
  
“So what did I do?”  
  
Dom blinked owlishly, looking at Matt in confusion, his path blocked.  
  
“What?”  
  
Matt folded his arm across his chest, his fingers fidgeting on the hem of his sleeve. He lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly before speaking again.  
  
“What did I do to piss you off? Tell me, so I can try to fix it,” he said bluntly.  
  
Dom frowned, and shook his head, trying to make his way around Matt. But Matt wasn’t having any of it.  
  
“You haven’t done anything to piss me off,” Dom replied.  
  
He went to move to the left but Matt side-stepped to block him again.  
  
“Something’s up your arse. So clearly, I have.”  
  
Dom’s frown deepened.  
  
“You haven’t.”  
  
“Well, then why have you been acting so pissy with me all of a sudden?” he interrogated. “It’s like I have the fucking plague or something; you won’t sit with me, eat with me, fish with me, or even just have a fag with me.”  
  
He stared at Dom expectantly, gaze piercing. The drummer’s cheeks suddenly felt altogether too hot, and his stomach began to twist in knots.  
  
This topic had made him feel horribly uncomfortable and on-edge when Chris pointed it out, and equally so now with Matt, though for almost entirely opposite reasons. With Chris, he felt the need to explain away the time he spent with the diminutive singer and the closeness of their relationship; with Matt he was compelled to make a case for why he _shouldn’t_ want his constant company. Dom felt torn.  
  
“I don’t have to do _everything_ with you.”  
  
The statement came out more harshly than Dom meant it to, and he cringed inwardly at the way Matt’s posture stiffened in response.  
  
“I know that,” he replied curtly. “I’m not saying you have to; just acting like a fucking normal human being around me, that’s all.”  
  
Then the brunette’s expression softened and he unfolded his arms to reach a hand out to Dom’s wrist, touching it gently with his fingertips. The look in his eyes made Dom’s chest ache.  
  
“I don’t like this; how we are at the moment. It’s shit,” Matt said quietly. “I– ”  
  
He seemed to catch himself then, stopping abruptly and dropping his hand away again. When he looked back up, his gaze had turned cold.  
  
“I think I deserve a fucking decent explanation, y’know?” he snapped. “You’re being a wanker to me for no reason.”  
  
Dom felt his temper flare and ego assert itself again at Matt’s words, though more due to his own shame than the insults thrown at him. Still, his own pig-headedness couldn’t leave it be.  
  
“There’s no bloody explanation than what I already told you,” he replied curtly. “I don’t want to spend all my free time with the person I already live with.”  
  
Dom watched as the muscles in Matt’s jaw twitched.  
  
“And _I_ already told _you_ , you don’t have to, you stupid git,” Matt snapped. “If I irritate you that fucking much, why did you agree to live with me in the first place?”  
  
It was not a question Matt expected an answer to, and he shoved past Dom to march out the front door, slamming it shut behind him. Dom just stared at the rattling door, his hands shaking with adrenaline. He sighed.  
  
* * *  
  
Over the next few days, things only got worse. Though they still lived together, Matt and Dom avoided each other at all costs and became like ships passing in the night. When they simply _had_ to spend time together due to musical commitments, their exchanges were formal and cold, and depended heavily on Chris as mediator. The bass player noticed the tension of course, and attempted to resolve the spat, but Dom was too embarrassed to explain what the dispute was about. When he did speak to him alone, Chris said outright that they should hurry up and get over their little tiff. But it wasn’t that simple.  
  
Dom found himself becoming short and impatient with everyone, not just Matt, and the muscles of his left shoulder and the side of his neck became knotted and painful. He felt the dull thump of a headache behind his left eye most days, and bought a double pack of paracetamol to medicate himself with. The painkillers helped a little but left him feeling slightly spaced after several days of continuous use, especially when he began skipping breakfast and eventually lunch too.  
  
Sleep awarded him no relief either, becoming an entirely gruelling affair, where he tossed and turned for hours in an exhausted daze before succumbing to one or two fitful bouts of unconsciousness. The spare bed seemed far too large, Dom’s limbs stretching out and expecting contact with the lump of another body but finding none. It made his chest ache. He’d gotten too used to having someone there, and realised he now relied on it to get any semblance of decent sleep. The thought made him angry; angry at Matt for making him so dependent, and angry at himself for allowing it to happen in the first place.  
  
All of which came to a head late one night when Dom was attempting to sleep and again having no luck. He fidgeted about in bed, trying to ignore the strain in his neck and shoulder as he turned over again to find a comfortable position. His efforts were not helped by the fact that Matt was still awake and fiddling about on the piano several rooms away. The noise wasn’t loud, but it disturbed Dom simply because it was _there_ , and the melodies kept stopping and repeating as Matt struggled with the piece he was trying to play. Normally _he_ was the perfectionist, and welcomed Matt’s drive for excellence, but not right now, at what he guessed was about two in the morning. He wished the front man would be his usual self and simply leave it alone to come back to later.  
  
Dom let out an exasperated, irritated sigh and rolled over to fish his t-shirt from the floor next to the bed. Climbing off the mattress and slipping the shirt on, he yanked his bedroom door open and marched down the hall with a scowl on his face.  
  
When he arrived at the music room, he pushed the door open and was greeted by the sight of a dishevelled-looking Matt hunched over the keys with his back to him. He was dressed in loose trousers and stripy tee, his brunette locks a greasy, unstyled mess much like his own. The skin of his arms and neck looked pale and dull, and Dom wasn’t sure if he remembered Matt’s ribs every looking that bony through his shirt, at least, not at anytime in the last five years.  
  
He took a few steps into the room and folded his arms across his chest. Matt hadn’t stopped as Dom had entered the room, though the drummer figured it was likely he’d heard him, both coming down the hall and opening the door.  
  
Matt continued to battle with his symphonic piece, making a little progress to a few bars further along, but still repeating and replaying to hit the notes and tempo to his satisfaction. Both that and the fact that Matt was deliberately ignoring him made Dom’s temper flare, and his nails bit into his palms as he balled his fists.  
  
“Matt.”  
  
There was little response other than a slight hesitation in the fingers of Matt’s left hand. Dom flared his nostrils.  
  
“Matt, for fuck’s sake, stop.”  
  
The brunette paused at this and turned his head slightly to look at Dom with a hard, cold expression. His lips were drawn into a thin, harsh line and his brow lowered as he watched Dom for a few moments. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, and the bones of his face jutted out to cast heavy shadows under his cheeks and jaw. The skin of his face was as pale as the rest of his body, except for small patches of blotchy redness on his cheeks and one side of his neck. His appearance made Dom’s stomach lurch, and his temper softened for a moment at how awful his best friend looked.  
  
“What.”  
  
It wasn’t a question; it was an accusation. Dom felt his blood boil, and took the chance to reply anyway.  
  
“I’m trying to sleep. Would you just stop?”  
  
Matt turned away from him, flicking a hand dismissively.  
  
“No.”  
  
He resumed his playing, ignoring the blonde again. Dom’s fingernails bit harder into his palms, head pounding from headache and anger. Matt could be such a selfish little shit when he wanted to be.  
  
“Stop,” Dom growled.  
  
There was no response.  
  
“Fucking _stop_ _!_ ” he snapped, grabbing at Matt’s thin arm. “It sounds like shit anyway.”  
  
Matt’s head turned at this, his eyes narrowed, and his fingers faltered on the keys. Dom yanked at him again, pulling an awful mashing of notes from the piano.  
  
“Stop playing that fucking crap!” he snarled.  
  
Matt shoved him away, his movements tired but still angry.  
  
“ _Excuse_ me?” Matt said, his voice low and tight.  
  
Dom felt his heart hammering in his throat, recognising all the warning signs of straying into dangerous territory with Matt. But he was unable to stop himself. He was just so tired, so irritated, so _sick_ of feeling like this, that he needed someone to blame, to take it out on.  
  
“Whatever the fuck it is you’re trying to play – you’re murdering it.”  
  
Matt turned away completely from the piano now, his cheeks flushing with anger. He sneered at Dom, bony fingers tensing on the piano lid.  
  
“It’s mine to murder,” he growled.  
  
Dom snorted, his grin having no warmth.  
  
“That explains it then.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Why it’s so fucking shit.”  
  
There was a deathly silence as Matt stared at him, probably trying to work out whether the drummer had actually spoken the words. Dom expected a blow from speaking to him this way, but none came. Matt just stood up abruptly and levelled his furious gaze at Dom, the veins in his neck bulging with suppressed rage.  
  
“You fucking _cunt_.”  
  
The words came out low and bitter, his voice cracking ever so slightly.  
  
Dom knew immediately what he’d done, what he’d said, the line he’d just crossed. But he was too damn frustrated and tired to care, and the words kept coming despite the small, sensible voice in his head that told him to stop.  
  
“Thought you liked honesty. Can’t take the truth, eh?” he mocked.  
  
Matt didn’t reply, just scowled at him again before turning away.  
  
“You’re not the musical genius you think you are.”  
  
The singer stalked out of the sun room and through the kitchen, Dom turning to follow him.  
  
“You’re not so fucking fantastic, and you know it,” the drummer taunted, calling after him as Matt hurried away. “Whatever talent you had is slipping away in your old age.”  
  
Dom stopped as the lithe man reached for the handle to the front door, already across the room from him. His own hands were clenched into fists, heart hammering in his chest.  
  
“You’re losing it!” he spat.  
  
The only reply was the slam of the door and rattle of glass as Matt left him alone in the house once again.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom deals with the aftermath of the previous night and comes to realise the consequences of his actions may be further-reaching than he thought.

Dom was woken several hours later by the far-too-loud ring of his phone. He let out a groan and rolled over reluctantly. He still felt like shit; the bed sheets were damp and tangled in his limbs, and his throat dry and sore. He scowled with eyes still closed as he reached for his phone, pressing it to his ear and yawning.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Good morning to you too, git,” came Chris’s gruff but amused voice on the other end.  
  
“It isn’t.”  
  
“I noticed. Too much to drink again?”  
  
“No,” Dom sighed, rubbing at his mysteriously itchy eye with a knuckle. “Just slept badly.”  
  
“Oh okay. I was hoping that was maybe why Matt didn’t turn up this morning,” Chris said distractedly. “You haven’t seen him, have you?”  
  
His own vicious words to Matt from last night suddenly came back to him, and Dom felt his stomach lurch. He sat up and stretched, wincing as a shot of pain sliced through his shoulder to his neck.  
  
“No, but I’m still in bed. Haven’t heard him though,” he replied. “Hang on, let me go check.”  
  
He stood on wobbly legs and wandered down the hall to the kitchen and living room, calling Matt’s name. Even if Matt _was_ home, he didn’t really expect a reply, given the way he’d spoken to him the night before.  
  
As he checked the other bedroom and the rest of the house, it became clear the singer was nowhere to be found. The house looked exactly the same as the night before; it appeared Matt had not been back since.  
  
“No, he’s not here,” Dom said finally.  
  
“Bollocks. He was supposed to meet me about an hour ago,” Chris sighed. “I thought he was just being his usual self, arriving fashionably late, but this is ridiculous. And he’s not answering his phone. I wonder where the short-arse is.”  
  
Dom stepped back into the kitchen and spotted Matt’s wallet and phone in their regular home; a blue bowl by the kettle.  
  
“Well, his phone is still here, so that’d be why he’s not answering it,” Dom stated, fingering it absently. He noted it was on silent, which explained why it hadn’t woken him that morning.  
  
“Why the fuck did he go out without it?”  
  
“And his wallet.”  
  
“And his wallet? What the hell…?”  
  
Dom sighed and rubbed at his face with his free hand. He could almost hear Chris’s frown on the other end, and knew what was coming next.  
  
“ _Dom?_ ” Chris’s tone was accusatory. “What happened?”  
  
The blonde grunted and sat down on the settee.  
  
“Last night, we just, um… it wasn’t my fault, not really… he was being a shit, and…” He trailed off, bringing his hand to his head. “We had a fight.”  
  
He heard Chris sigh, and he closed his eyes.  
  
“How bad?”  
  
“Bad… really bad.”  
  
“This is getting silly, mate.”  
  
“I know, I know. I was knackered and had a migraine, and he was being a little fucking…” Dom trailed off again, his hand coming down over his eyes now. “I was an arse to him, more than I should have been.”  
  
“What the hell did you say to him to make him disappear all night and half a day?” Chris asked, surprise evident in his voice.  
  
Dom grunted, shaking his head even though Chris couldn’t see it.  
  
“Look, it’s been difficult between us recently; you know that more than anyone. And things just snapped – we _both_ snapped. We said and did things we didn’t mean last night, and I wish I could take it back but I can’t. It’s done now, and I just want to get on and fix it, alright?”  
  
There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone, and Dom wondered for a moment if Chris had hung up on him. When he finally spoke, his voice had that tone to it that Dom had heard the bassist use on his children sometimes. It made Dom feel very small and immature all of a sudden.  
  
“Alright, I know you’re frustrated, but just calm down, yeah? If you take it out on me as well, you’re going to end up with _two_ friends who don’t want to speak to you. And that’s no good for any of us.”  
  
Dom took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.  
  
“Yeah. I know. Sorry. I’m just…”  
  
He shook his head, not having a decent explanation for the way he was feeling and acting.  
  
“I’ll explain properly when I see you, yeah?” Dom continued. “I’ll hang here for a bit, see if Matt shows up, and then head to yours.”  
  
“Okay,” Chris agreed. “Me and Kelly will ask around, see if anyone’s seen him. Give me a call when you’re about to leave.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Dom hung up the phone, and sat motionless on the settee for a few moments. He then stood up abruptly and headed for the spare room to change, his belly fluttering with worry.  
  
*  
  
A couple of hours later Dom found himself at Chris’s rented villa, fidgeting on a kitchen stool, fingertips tapping furiously on the counter. He ran a hand through his already messy hair and chewed on his lip, his stomach in knots.  
  
He’d told Chris about what had happened the night before; Chris had given him an incredulous look when he’d repeated exactly what he’d said to Matt, and Dom knew why. He’d broken the unspoken rule that everyone close to Matt was aware of; you didn’t criticise, wind up, or otherwise argue with him late at night when he was composing unless you wanted your head bitten off, or to wound him. Matt’s complete lack retaliation made Dom sure in his case, it was the latter. And he now felt sick to his stomach because of it, and his nerves had become frayed with worry as to his bandmate’s whereabouts.  
  
He’d had no luck tracking Matt down near their house, and Chris and Kelly had both come up empty-handed in their searches so far as well. Though, at that moment Kelly was following up on a sighting of a rowdy tourist at a bar on the other side of the island from early that morning. Chris had volunteered to look after the kids, and attempt to keep Dom sane until they heard anything. The drummer had left a note in big letters stuck to the fridge at his and Matt’s house, for the singer to call him or Chris if he came back there, but it had been all quiet so far.  
  
Dom jumped, his heart racing as Chris’s phone rang. He stood up off the stool, slightly surprised at the involuntary shake of his hands as he watched Chris expectantly.  
  
“Hey. Oh good. Right. Yeah, figures. Okay… alright. Did you need me to come over? Alright. Thanks, love. See you then. Bye.”  
  
Dom stood impatiently while Chris spoke, almost bursting before he’d finished his conversation. He was practically on top of Chris, clutching at his arm, by the time he was finally done.  
  
“So??” Dom blurted out. “Was that Kelly? Did she find him?”  
  
Chris grinned, pocketing his phone, and peeling Dom’s death-grip from his forearm.  
  
“Yeah, and yeah,” he replied. “Passed out in the shrubs on some beach, other side of the island.”  
  
Dom opened his mouth to speak, but Chris cut him off, continuing.  
  
“And he’s fine. Well, has a bugger of a hangover,” he conceded. “But otherwise fine. Apparently drank himself stupid very early this morning, swearing and shouting. Frightened the locals, who chased him away. A couple of kids showed Kelly where he’d ended up after writing himself off.”  
  
Dom let out the breath he’d been holding in, and felt his pulse start to slow a little. He sat back down on the stool.  
  
“Thank fuck,” he sighed. “I don’t know what I’d done if…” He trailed off, growing pale, turning to Chris with wide eyes. “He was near the water, and been drinking, he could’ve…”  
  
Dom swallowed hard, and Chris rubbed his shoulder affectionately, smiling.  
  
“Well, he’s alright, so stop worrying. Anyone would think you’re his mum,” he teased gently.  
  
Dom grinned sheepishly and rubbed his face with both hands.  
  
“Kelly said she’s going to let him sober up a bit – have some fluids and maybe something to eat – then they’ll make their way back here,” Chris explained. “Probably be half an hour or so. You want to wait for him at your place?”  
  
Dom shook his head, licking at his lips and then chewing on one for a moment.  
  
“No, I want to be here when he gets back.”  
  
Chris shrugged, a grin pulling at the side of his mouth.  
  
“Alright.”  
  
*  
  
Matt arrived at Chris’s sometime later looking worse for wear, as was expected. There was sand in his dishevelled hair, red impressions on one side of his face from whatever he’d passed out on, and stains down the front of his striped tee. His face was pale and slightly greener than the night before, though the bags under his eyes and their bloodshot nature remained.  
  
Overwhelmed with relief, Dom rushed over and embraced him, drawing a curse from the fragile frontman. Matt didn’t return his hug, just let his arms hang limply by his sides. He stunk to high heaven of stale alcohol, body odour and possibly sick, but Dom didn’t care; he was just glad to see him.  
  
When he drew away, Matt met him with a cold expression, his unhappiness with the drummer still evident even under the thick fog of hangover. Turning dismissively, he addressed Chris and Kelly instead, smiling weakly at them.  
  
“Thanks,” he said, his voice raw. “Gonna go back to mine now.”  
  
He turned without acknowledging Dom again, and headed slowly for the door. Dom waved a quick goodbye to Chris and Kelly, his smile grim, and then made after the wobbly singer.  
  
Matt didn’t speak to him the entire walk back to the house, despite Dom asking several times if he was okay and needed any help. It continued that way for the rest of the day, Matt barely even looking in his direction; it was like he didn’t even exist. He spoke to the blonde once or twice that evening when it was absolutely necessary, but it was short and to the point. Matt wasn’t rude to him or vicious with his words, just quiet and dismissive in the way he was sometimes with strangers.  
  
Dom found this worse than if Matt had been yelling or hurling abuse at him; there was something unsettling about a quiet Matthew Bellamy, especially when it was directed specifically at him. He said sorry on several occasions but got no response, other than the slow removal of his touch from Matt’s arm and a subdued stare. He didn’t know what else he could say to get through to Matt, and _that_ was truly frightening.  
  
After a few days of these uncomfortable silences and cool addresses, Dom couldn’t take any more. One evening, as Matt stood up from the settee to head to his ensuite, Dom stepped in front of him and caught him in a desperate embrace, whispering apologies into his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing Matt to give him something, _anything_ ; even to shove him away and tell him to piss off. He couldn’t stand this disconnection from him best friend anymore.  
  
The singer stood unresponsive for a few moments before letting out a sigh and patting Dom gently on the back. Dom’s heart soared at the reciprocation and squeezed the small man tighter, his cheek pressed up against Matt’s ear. His pulse began to race and he noticed a shake in his hands as he slid his fingers up to grasp Matt’s hair.  
  
“Okay, okay, Dom,” Matt said gently, attempting to pry him away. “Alright.”  
  
Dom felt his chest fill with a fuzzy warmth as he let go and looked into Matt’s face; there was a softness present in those blue eyes and the ghost of a smile at the corner of his thin lips. It would hardly seem significant to anyone else, but considering Matt hadn’t really smiled at him in almost a fortnight, the faintest sign of anything friendly was a welcome sight to Dom.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I am. So fucking sorry.”  
  
“I know. I know you are. I believe you.”  
  
“I don’t know what the fuck came over me. It was just… I was stupid. Can you forgive me?”  
  
Matt sighed and his eyes flicked down to where Dom’s fingers held him loosely by the wrist.  
  
“You were a real prick, Dom,” he said quietly. “A real fucking prick. For no reason.”  
  
Dom winced at the pained expression on best friend’s face, and he slid his fingers down to squeeze Matt’s hand, the other stroking at the back of his hair.  
  
“I know. Complete and utter arsehole. I was.”  
  
“I didn’t deserve it, not any of it,” Matt said, more firmly now. “I know I’d been in a shit mood too, and wasn’t exactly the easiest person to get on with. But that was too much, too far. It wasn’t fair.”  
  
Dom blanched and pull Matt back into a hug, his stomach knotted.  
  
“Fuck, I know. I’m sorry. Chris said these things that really got to me…” He trailed off and shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. “But that’s not an excuse. You’re right - you didn’t deserve it at all.”  
  
Dom thought he felt Matt shake a little as he took a breath in the drummer’s arms.  
  
“Those things you said. That was really low, Dom. Low blow.”  
  
Dom pulled back and held Matt’s face in his hands, leaning his forehead against the brunette’s and closing his eyes. He furrowed his brow and let out a sigh.  
  
“I didn’t mean it, not a word of it,” he said earnestly. “I don’t know what I was thinking, saying those things. Well, I _wasn’t_ thinking, y’know?”  
  
He opened his eyes to see Matt’s blue ones staring back at him, still showing traces of the hurt and confusion that had defined them the past couple of weeks. He swallowed and drew his head away, but left his hands where they were. He didn’t much care what Matt thought of him being so physically intense like this, as long as it showed his best friend that he was genuine.  
  
“I was just putting my own fears onto you,” Dom explained. “Your pieces were never shit, and you haven’t lost anything. You’re still as talented as you always were. In fact, more so.”  
  
Matt’s cheeks coloured at this, and he extricated himself from Dom’s touch to rub at his eyes and nose with his fingers.  
  
“It’s going to take time, Dom, to deal with this. To properly deal with this,” he said. “I can’t just wave a magic wand and get over it, y’know? I won’t pretend things are all fine when they’re not. It doesn’t work like that. _I_ don’t work like that.”  
  
“I know,” Dom replied. “But I’m going to fix it, or at least try to fix all this shit I’ve created. I’ll make it up to you.”  
  
Matt raised an eyebrow, his fingers scratching idly at his belly.  
  
“Really? Make it up to me? How?”  
  
Dom pursed his lips, thinking for a few moments.  
  
“I’ll cook all the meals for the next week,” he offered.  
  
Matt folded his arms.  
  
“Two weeks.”  
  
“Okay, two weeks,” Dom agreed. “And I’ll bring you your breakfast in bed. How does that sound?”  
  
Matt’s mouth curled into more of a smile, eyes starting to twinkle.  
  
“Sound good, yeah,” he murmured.  
  
Dom’s hand went to his wrist again, and he tracked his thumb over the dark veins there.  
  
“And…” He trailed off briefly, his eyes down and tracking over the skin of Matt’s pale arm. “And I’ll give you a foot massage,” he said slowly.  
  
When he looked up, Matt was blinking owlishly at him, his smile faltering. His free hand came up to rub at the back of his neck again, and his brow furrowed for a moment.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Matt licked at his lips and then chewed on one.  
  
“You’re willing to touch my feet?”  
  
“Yeah, if that’s what it takes,” Dom confirmed. “If you’ll let me.”  
  
A surprised grin pulled itself across Matt’s face, and he let out an embarrassed giggle.  
  
“For how long? Is it just going to be you poking the arches of my feet with one finger, or something?”  
  
Dom threw him a mirthful smile and shook his head.  
  
“No, it will be a proper massage. For as long as you want it, or need it.”  
  
Matt grinned wider, his long fingers now coming up to wrap around Dom’s arm in reciprocation.  
  
“Brilliant,” he said quietly.  
  
Dom beamed.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys return to Teignmouth for Chris’s birthday but Dom still feels he needs to tread carefully with Matt.

The end of the year crept up on Dom without him really noticing. All of a sudden, it was December and they were flying back to the UK for Chris’s thirtieth birthday. Chris planned to stay on afterwards for a few weeks, taking Kelly and the kids around England to visit family and friends for the festive season. Dom didn’t really know what he was going to do; he would of course see his immediate family for Christmas, but was undecided whether to hang around in the meantime or head back to the Caribbean.  
  
There wasn’t a lot for him now in England. And Dom knew spending time there, probably alone, would only make him think of Jess and his failed relationship. He was just starting to get back on his feet emotionally, and the last thing he needed was an unnecessary setback like that. He’d much rather just spend a couple of days in England for Chris’s birthday party and then fly straight back to the island with Matt, before going back later for Christmas.  
  
Not that he was even sure Matt would want to go back with him; he hadn’t asked. Recently, things hadn’t exactly been back to normal between the two of them, but they were a lot better than before, much to Dom’s relief. Matt was talking to him again – the crucial difference – though the drummer’s sleep remained unsettled as he had spent his nights alone in the spare room. He knew what the root of the problem was. Well, he suspected, but wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it.  
  
If Matt was in this situation, he would just confront Dom outright; tell him he was lonely and missed his contact, his presence, in the bed beside him. But Dom didn’t always like being forthright about everything, not in the way Matt did. He preferred to be cautious now. Considering everything that had happened, he didn’t want to push his luck with their friendship.  
  
The flight over to the UK was pleasant enough, but nowhere near the level of familiarity they’d had in weeks previous. Dom could feel the distance between them every time they were alone, and it made his chest twinge. But the last thing he needed was Matt closing off entirely from him again, which could happen if he pressed the situation. So, Dom was content with just waiting it out.  
  
Dom pulled the hood of his jumper over his head as he stepped outside the first night back, a shiver running through his body at the contrast in temperature. The winter seemed unusually cold this year, though Dom wasn’t sure if it was his imagination from having been in the Caribbean the last couple of months. It was like he’d been in another world there; everything was so different and time seemed slower, even though in reality the weeks had flown by. Then again, perhaps everything seemed surreal because he was still jet-lagged.  
  
Dom reached into his hoodie pocket to pull out a crumpled packet of cigarettes, fingering one from the cardboard and then patting down his pockets for a lighter. He lit the end and took a long drag, closing his eyes and feeling the familiar burn in his throat and lungs. He pulled on the cords of his jacket to tighten the hood, shoulders hunching up in a vain attempt to avoid heat loss.  
  
All of Dom’s warm clothes were still up in London at the flat, not down here at his mum’s place. He’d purchased some thermals when he’d gotten into Teignmouth that morning, but they weren’t entirely successful in keeping the cold out; he only had a shirt, jeans and hoodie to wear over them.  
  
He flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette and watched the smoke disappear quickly into the night, the chill of the air consuming everything in sight. Dom’s breaths came out in short, visible puffs, and he tucked his free hand into his front pocket to try to get some feeling back.  
  
Dom jumped when he felt his phone vibrate in his jeans. Pulling it out, he was surprised to see Matt’s yawning face on the screen.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
“Alright? I didn’t wake you, did I?”  
  
Dom smiled slightly.  
  
“It’s only nine o’clock.”  
  
“I know, but I thought you might be jet-lagged or something. The flight was pretty long, and you were quiet on the ride down from Heathrow.”  
  
Dom had mostly listened as Matt had talked on and off in the chartered car, but hadn’t thought it was any different than normal. Well, no different than the last week or so. Matt was undoubtedly picking up on the anxiety between them too, or at least Dom’s awareness of it. But this was the first time he’d brought it up.  
  
“Nah, I’m alright; a little bit awake in fact.”  
  
“Good. Well, not good that you can’t sleep, but good because I am too actually. Awake, I mean. I thought you could come over.”  
  
Dom smiled again, and took a last drag of his cigarette before dropping it to the ground and stubbing it out with his shoe. The offer reminded him of similar times when they were kids; Dom turning down the ring on his parent’s phone so Matt could call him late at night to invite him over, without his mum and dad finding out.  
  
“Sure. Your mum’s place isn’t far from here, is it?” Dom asked. “I haven’t been there for a while, so I can’t remember the address.”  
  
Matt gave it to him, and they worked out it was close enough to walk. Dom headed inside the house, grabbing some fingerless gloves and a beanie before saying goodbye to Matt. Taking a deep breath, he checked his keys were in his pocket and then braced himself for the cold again as he opened the front door.  
  
*  
  
Matt put the kettle on when Dom arrived, and rifled around in the cupboard in search of a thicker jacket to warm his friend up. Matt’s mum still had odds and ends of the singer’s belongings, partly because he’d left them there many years ago, but some were also more recent shipments from his Italian house.  
  
Matt managed to find an old bomber jacket that he said only slightly smelled of mothballs, and insisted Dom wear it until the feeling came back into his limbs. Dom slipped it on and smiled to himself, thinking it smelled more of Matt’s old cologne than anything else. That, combined with the central heating and cuppa Matt pushed into his hands, meant it didn’t take long very long for him to return to the right temperature again.  
  
They chatted quietly for a while; about their families, about being back in Teignmouth, and recalled a few old memories of trying to get into pubs and get laid. When the conversation dwindled a little, Dom looked up from his now empty mug to find Matt watching him with sharp, blue eyes.  
  
“So, what’s the matter then?”  
  
Dom tore his gaze from Matt’s and leant his head against the back of the settee, frowning slightly.  
  
“What do you mean?” he replied.  
  
Matt shifted one knee up onto the cushion between them, still watching the blonde.  
  
“Something seems the matter. Like you’re upset or angry.” He shrugged, ruffling his hair with one hand. “I don’t know how to explain it.”  
  
Dom sighed, meeting Matt’s eyes again.  
  
“Nothing’s the matter. Not really. It’s just because of what happened the other week, things between us feel…”  
  
“Different?” Matt finished.  
  
“Exactly. Because of the things I said, it seems like you’re not as open with me anymore–”  
  
“You can hardly blame me. You were a right wanker.”  
  
Dom sighed, slipping his hand out to rest on Matt’s arm.  
  
“I know, and I _don’t_ blame you. I don’t expect everything to be fucking sunshine and rainbows, because you deserve time to learn to trust me again.” Dom ran a hand through his hair before continuing. “It’s just – I can feel that, every time I’m around you; the way you distance yourself. So I guess I’m reacting to that, and seem upset.”  
  
Matt was quiet for a while, his hands fidgeting on a throw pillow. When he looked up at Dom, his expression was grave.  
  
“Do you want me _not_ to be around you then?”  
  
Dom’s brow furrowed.  
  
“No, not at all,” he said. “Unless you want that. Or need it.”  
  
Matt shook his head and then stretched an arm up behind it.  
  
“For a while I thought I did. I thought I might need time away from you so I didn’t feel so pissed off. But not being around you made things worse, I think.”  
  
Dom hitched a knee up onto the settee, pulling it against his chest and resting his chin on it.  
  
“So what do we do then?” he asked.  
  
“Fuck knows.”  
  
Dom smiled.  
  
“That’s constructive,” he deadpanned.  
  
Matt threw him a crooked grin.  
  
“Well, is there anything I can do to make it better?” Dom pressed.  
  
Matt thought for a moment, rubbing at his nose.  
  
“I’m not sure. I don’t think so. You’ve already been doing all the cooking you promised me. Though I haven’t taken you up on the foot massage yet.”  
  
Dom shrugged and smiled again.  
  
“Well…?”  
  
He motioned to Matt’s feet. Matt quirked an eyebrow.  
  
“What, now?”  
  
“Yeah, why not?”  
  
Matt narrowed his eyes.  
  
“But my feet aren’t particularly sore right now. I don’t want to use it up, and regret it later after a gig or something.”  
  
Dom chuckled at Matt’s pragmatism.  
  
“I never said it had to be a one-time thing; not if you’re still learning to trust me. You can ask again at a later date, yeah?”  
  
“So this one would be a freebie, then?”  
  
“If you want to call it that, sure.”  
  
Never one to waste a good opportunity, Matt lifted his legs and dropped his feet onto the settee next to Dom. Dom changed position, turning to face Matt a little, pulling his feet into his lap. He glanced up at his bandmate.  
  
“Socks on or off?”  
  
He was slightly surprised to see Matt’s cheeks colour at his question.  
  
“On. On, definitely on,” Matt said quickly.  
  
Dom furrowed his brow and threw him a bemused smile.  
  
“Alright. Whatever’s best.”  
  
Dom took one of Matt’s feet between his hands and began a gentle massage, his thumbs running along the arch and fingers working over the top. Matt immediately let out a sigh and closed his eyes, his whole body sagging at the contact. Dom grinned.  
  
He maintained a slow pace, running over Matt’s entire foot; from the ball to heel, around the ankle, then all the way up to his toes and back again. It occurred to him that this was something new he was learning about a man he’d known for more than half his life. He’d never really touched Matt’s feet much before, and was only now discovering their shape, size and feel; it wasn’t often they came across new things about each other.  
  
Dom watched the expressions playing out on Matt’s face, amused by the way the brunette was trying to suppress how much he was enjoying this. Dom wasn’t really sure why; enjoyment was kind of the point to it all. Matt attempted to stifle a giggle when Dom focused on his toes, the sensation clearly ticklish for him.  
  
The drummer ran his thumb under Matt’s big toe, then harder down the arch of his foot to the ball. Matt groaned and squirmed on the settee. Dom felt a flash of emotion he didn’t recognise. A little confused, he grabbed hold of Matt’s other foot, brushing the feeling aside. Here he began the soft, slow motions again, working for a while, before culminating in the firm draw down Matt’s arch.  
  
All the while, Matt fidgeted and made faces of repressed pleasure, his fingers knitting in the fabric of the settee cushions. He grunted, sighed, and let his head loll back a few times, body seemingly in perpetual motion. Curious, Dom found himself unable to look away from Matt’s face. He didn’t really remember seeing Matt in a state like this before.  
  
After a few more minutes and a few harder presses into the muscles of his feet, Matt drew an audible breath in and pulled his feet back, eyelids fluttering open.  
  
“Okay, okay. Stop. That’s alright; that’s enough.”  
  
Dom noted the strange expression on his face and odd tone to his voice. When he met Matt’s gaze, the blue irises seemed small compared to the blown pupils. Matt rubbed at his face with one hand and shifted to tuck his feet under himself.  
  
Dom tilted his head, watching him a moment.  
  
“Alright…?”  
  
Matt nodded, and a sheepish smile curled onto his lips.  
  
“Yeah. It was just a bit weird.”  
  
Dom’s expression became confused.  
  
“What was?”  
  
Matt motioned to his feet.  
  
“That. It’s just, erm, no-one’s touched my feet for a while. Felt a bit odd.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Overwhelming, actually.”  
  
Dom chuckled.  
  
“Not in a bad way, I hope?” he asked. “Otherwise I’m doing it wrong.”  
  
Matt shook his head.  
  
“No, no, not at all. Just too much to handle at the moment.”  
  
Dom didn’t really understand but nodded anyway, leaning back into the settee.  
  
They sat in silence for a while, before Matt sat up suddenly and gestured to the doorway.  
  
“Oh, while you’re here, there’s something I was going to give you.”  
  
He disappeared from the room and returned a few moments later with a parcel wrapped in black, glittery paper. He held it out to Dom as he sat back down.  
  
“I may as well give it to you now, though technically it’s not your birthday yet. Doesn’t matter though, I think.”  
  
Dom took the present, eyebrows arched in surprise. They didn’t usually do gifts unless it was an important milestone.  
  
“You didn’t have to get me anything. The usual card would’ve been fine.”  
  
Matt shrugged.  
  
“I know, but my gift for your thirtieth last year was pretty rubbish, and I haven’t exactly been around much on the day for the last few years. I wanted to make up for it.”  
  
Dom threw him a slightly baffled look but began unwrapping the parcel. Pulling the paper away revealed an ornate wooden box, shiny with lacquer and a dark blue veneer lid. It was inlaid with gold leaf, set out in curled flourishes from each corner, and closed with a delicate latch. The drummer glanced up at Matt for a moment before opening the box, fingers sliding over the polished wood.  
  
Dom felt his stomach drop when he saw what was inside. Set upon the velvet padding was a pair of drumsticks, the wood lightly varnished. The same flourished pattern from the box wound along their length in black, and at the centre was printed ‘Dominic James Howard’ in gold script. Dom swallowed hard before attempting to speak.  
  
“Matt…” he murmured. “Shit…”  
  
He shook his head a little, still staring down at his gift.  
  
“They’re proper sticks, yeah? But I don’t know how practical they’ll actually be to use,” Matt explained. “The varnish probably makes them a bit slippery to hold, and I imagine the weight balance is probably out because of the gold inlay. There’s not that much of it, I know, but it’s the real stuff, so it does weigh some. I guess they’re for display more than anything.”  
  
Dom fingered the sticks, feeling their smoothness and admiring the delicate paintwork and embossing. He looked up at Matt, brow still furrowed.  
  
“I don’t know what to say…”  
  
Matt’s expression twisted in worry.  
  
“If you don’t like it, that’s okay; I know it looks a bit over-the-top. I just liked the pattern on the box and thought it might look good on the sticks too. But I probably like seventeenth century French design more than you anyway, so I understand if you think it’s a bit too much.”  
  
Dom shook his head.  
  
“No, I’m just a bit speechless…” He paused, watching Matt for a moment. “Wait; is this box _actually_ Seventeenth Century French antique?”  
  
Matt nodded and shrugged.  
  
“I saw it a while back and thought it was nice, as a gift for someone or just for me. It ended up being convenient when I was trying to work out a good birthday present for you.”  
  
Dom ran a hand through his hair, his eyes still wide. He gave a small chuckle of disbelief.  
  
“God, Matt. You didn’t have to do this,” he murmured. “It’s really amazing. Thank you.”  
  
Matt watched him carefully.  
  
“So you like it, then?” he asked.  
  
Dom grinned and set the box beside him on the settee.  
  
“Of course. It’s beautiful. I love it.”  
  
He pulled Matt into a tight hug, one hand on the back of the singer’s neck. He held him there for several long moments, causing Matt to giggle. As an afterthought, Dom brushed a kiss against Matt’s cheek as he pulled away. Matt gave a soft snort and touched at his skin where Dom’s lips had been, a slightly confused expression on his face.  
  
“ _Dom_ …”  
  
Dom grinned, leaning back against the settee again.  
  
“What?”  
  
Matt fidgeted and furrowed his brow for a moment, before relaxing it again and chuckling.  
  
“Never mind. Doesn’t matter.”  
  
Dom shrugged and tapped his fingers in a rhythm against the arm of the couch.  
  
“Alright.”  
  
His other hand rested upon the lid of the box Matt had given him, fingers sliding back and forth absently across the lacquered surface.  
  
“I guess I should head back to my mum’s place soon; don’t want to be too tired tomorrow.”  
  
Matt shook his head.  
  
“Nah, just stay here. It’ll be a pain in the arse going back out in the cold now,” he said. “There’s plenty of room in my bed. Or the settee – whichever you’d prefer.”  
  
Dom’s eyebrows went up a little, but he decided not to question the invitation in case Matt changed his mind; he really hadn’t been looking forward to the walk back. Instead, he smiled and nodded at his bandmate.  
  
“Alright, cheers,” he replied. “And it’ll be the bed, I reckon. If that’s okay with you.”  
  
Matt threw him a vaguely puzzled look.  
  
“Of course, yeah. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”  
  
Dom shrugged and fingered his hair.  
  
“Just checking; I know what you’re like.”  
  
He grinned wickedly as Matt’s eyes narrowed.  
  
“And what am I like, eh?”  
  
“Your mouth goes faster than your brain.”  
  
“Yeah, it does. So?”  
  
“So, you say a lot that you haven’t necessarily thought through.”  
  
“You trying to say I talk a load of shit?”  
  
Dom chuckled and bit his lip.  
  
“Yep.”  
  
Matt scoffed indignantly but Dom could see a smile twitching at his mouth.  
  
“Not all the time,” he protested.  
  
“No, not all the time,” Dom agreed. “Just _most_ of the time.”  
  
Dom laughed as Matt huffed, and was unprepared when the brunette shot a hand out to slap him in the side of the head. He leaned across to smack Matt back in retaliation but the singer’s hands were too quick, deflecting the blow. From there it devolved into a slapping and poking match, before Dom resorted to tickling and they ended up wrestling on the settee, laughing and breathless.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get used to each other’s company again and Matt confronts Dom about his previous behaviour.

“Dom. My back hurts.”  
  
Dom cracked an eyelid from his relaxed position in the rockpool, peeking over at his bandmate on the other side. Most of Matt’s body was laid out below the shallow water, with just his face above, eyes peering over at the drummer. Dom ran his hand through his damp hair and let his feet float to the surface.  
  
Matt had ended up returning to the Caribbean with Dom after Chris’s birthday. He hadn’t needed much convincing, to Dom’s surprise, and the two of them had spent the last couple of days settling back into the warmth and tranquillity of the island. It had calmed Dom’s nerves again and, coupled with Matt’s more receptive attitude of late, put the drummer in the best state of mind he’d had in months.  
  
Strangely, it appeared to have almost the opposite effect on Matt, at least from a musical standpoint. He’d been struggling to perfect his piano compositions, getting frustrated over transitions between the pieces and how they sounded overall. Of course, this had happened on previous albums, but more often toward the end of recording. And certainly not with the level of distress Dom witnessed now.  
  
“I’m not surprised,” he replied. “You were up until two in the morning hunched over that piano.”  
  
Matt lifted his head up and shook it to one side, attempting to drain the water stuck in his ear.  
  
“I wasn’t playing for the whole time; I did take breaks.”  
  
Dom smiled at the memory.  
  
He’d interrupted the brunette a few times the previous afternoon to force him to take a breather, sitting down on the carpet of the sun room to listen to the iPod. Matt had mostly chosen classical pieces, in an attempt to inspire himself, but Dom had gone for more dance-based tracks by instinct. Matt had quickly grown tired of these, not finding them relaxing in the way the drummer did, so Dom had relented.  
  
Matt had thrown him a toothy smile when Queen emerged from the small speakers, and Dom had even managed to coax him into a sing-along of _You’re My Best Friend_. Though he’d made a face when Dom had crooned to him, complete with elaborate gestures. The drummer figured it was more his off-key singing rather than the sentiment behind it. At least, he hoped so.  
  
“Yeah, but you’re driving yourself a bit mad with your composing; making yourself tense,” Dom said, drawing out of the reverie. “I don’t know why you don’t just relax and let it come naturally, like you normally do.”  
  
Matt sighed and wiped the sea water out of his eyes that dripped from his hair.  
  
“I’ve tried. I mean, it was like that before, when I first started the symphony. Not a problem, yeah? And I thought I’d sorted most of it out; how it was going to transition and everything. But now I’m starting to think it all sounds like bollocks.”  
  
Dom furrowed his brow. There were two possible reasons why Matt would have begun to feel like that. The first was obvious; his worry over personal relationships and recent break-up. Dom didn’t like to think _he_ could be the other reason. Despite Matt knowing he hadn’t meant what he’d said in his stupid outburst during their fight, it was possible the idea had still worked its way into Matt’s mind and he was starting to doubt his ability.  
  
“It doesn’t. That’s ridiculous; you’re just frustrated.”  
  
Matt shrugged.  
  
“I know. Doesn’t mean it isn’t shit.”  
  
Dom sighed and floated over to where Matt was. Sliding his fingers around a pale arm, he coaxed him away from the wall.  
  
“Come here.”  
  
He guided Matt in front of him, and sat them against one side of the rock pool, the brunette’s back to him. Dom reached up to Matt’s shoulders, resting his fingers along the bony frame before beginning a slow motion back and forth. He pressed a little harder to massage the muscles, fingers and thumbs working carefully, feeling out the tendons and pressure points. Matt let out a small grunt and Dom watched his shoulders sag a little.  
  
“It _isn’t_ shit, so stop thinking that,” Dom insisted. “You’re worrying over nothing, and you know how you get when you do that.”  
  
“Irritating?” Matt deadpanned.  
  
Dom’s lips quirked into a smile.  
  
“Well, yes, that,” he agreed.  
  
Matt scoffed at his response, but threw him a toothy grin. Dom traced his fingers up the back of Matt’s spine to his neck, working the muscles there.  
  
“But I meant the impact on _you_ ; don’t you remember the way you’d practically scar yourself from scratching so hard at your skin?”  
  
Matt snorted, rolling his shoulders under Dom’s touch.  
  
“I haven’t done that for years,” he pointed out.  
  
Dom paused in his motions, his nose against the back of Matt’s damp hair.  
  
“And I haven’t seen you this _bad_ for years,” he said quietly.  
  
Matt turned his head, his brow furrowed slightly but a smile on his lips.  
  
“I’m alright, Dom,” he said. “You don’t have to worry – I’m not going to top myself or anything.”  
  
He meant it as a joke, but Dom frowned. Matt sighed and nudged him with his elbow behind.  
  
“Come on, you really think I would do something like that?” the singer asked. “I have a flair for the dramatic, yes, but I wouldn’t go _that_ far. There are still too many things I want to do before I leave this place, this plane of existence.” He paused and smirked slightly at Dom. “Besides, then there’d be no-one around to give you the bollocking you deserve sometimes.”  
  
Dom chuckled, his frown fading.  
  
“Well, there is _that_ ,” he smiled.  
  
He moved his hands down to Matt’s back again, rubbing his thumbs over shoulder-blades and in toward the singer’s spine. He followed the lines of Matt’s ribs from the middle out toward his sides, concentrating on the muscles between them. When he reached the bottom of the ribcage, starting on the lower back, Matt let out a groan. His lithe back arched under Dom’s touch, and the drummer noticed him shudder and tilt his head slightly.  
  
“Sore there, eh?” Dom asked.  
  
“Yes,” Matt said, a pitiful tone to his voice.  
  
Dom snorted, and didn’t cease his ministrations. Instead, he worked the muscles harder, digging his thumbs into the thick bands beside Matt’s spine, squeezing in at the sides with his fingers.  
  
“Fuck,” Matt mumbled. “Fucking _ow_.”  
  
Deciding he was unable to apply proper pressure in this position, Dom moved to wind one arm around Matt’s ribcage to brace him and then pressed down again with his free hand. Matt struggled for a moment, crying out as the drummer hit a particularly tender spot and kneaded it relentlessly, holding him tighter around the chest.  
  
“Ow ow ow! Shit! Dom!” Matt whimpered.  
  
Dom leaned his head forward as he spoke, grinning a little.  
  
“You’ll thank me later, trust me,” he murmured.  
  
He continued on for a few more moments, and eventually Matt relaxed in his embrace, his head lolling forward. Dom eased off the pressure of his thumb, and instead began slow circles over the skin to soothe the aching muscle. Matt made a few more groaning, whimpering sounds, but allowed Dom to carry on with this softer approach.  
  
Dom’s hand wandered away from the sore spot to tend to the rest of Matt’s back, massaging gently over muscles and feeling out the shape of the bones beneath his fingers. Matt let out a long sigh and Dom loosened the hold around his body, though the singer remained close to him. They stayed this way for some time, Dom’s motions developing a languid rhythm, and a comfortable silence stretched out between them.  
  
Dom let his chin come to rest on Matt’s shoulder, closing his eyes. In the warmth of the sun and stillness of the water, their interaction seemed to take on a dream-like quality, one that Dom found he was more than content with. All the world seemed to fall away and he was only aware of the instinctive feel of his hands upon Matt’s body, and the sense of satisfaction that swelled inside his chest. He allowed himself to be guided purely by Matt’s reactions to his touch; small noises, sharp intakes of breath, slight squirming into or away from his fingers.  
  
It went on for some time, Dom wasn’t sure exactly how long, but by the end of it Matt was sprawled completely against him in the water with a sloppy smile on his lips. He cracked an eyelid and grinned wider at Dom, but didn’t say anything.  
  
*  
  
They returned to the house a couple of hours later, picking up some sweets on the way through to have for afternoon tea. Matt curled up on the settee and flicked on the telly, Dom stretching out on the chaise beside him as they waited for the kettle to boil.  
  
They watched some nature documentaries from Matt’s iPod for a while, Matt rising briefly to fetch their cuppas while Dom let his eyelids droop, his whole body relaxing.  
  
Eventually, Dom set his mug aside and began to roll and prod at his left shoulder, a slight twinge still present in it. Matt must have noticed his discomfort, because soon after two sets of thin fingers crept onto his shoulders and began a slow massage. Surprised but not complaining, Dom removed his hand and let out a sigh, relaxing into Matt’s touch.  
  
Matt shifted against him a little so Dom leant across his chest, the brunette’s face coming to rest in the back of his hair. He could feel Matt’s warm breath against his scalp, the sensation oddly pleasant, and he smiled, closing his eyes.  
  
Matt’s fingers soon came across the twinge in his shoulder, and Dom winced, letting out a small gasp. Matt paused, peering his head around a little.  
  
“Sore too?”  
  
Dom nodded and rolled his shoulder again.  
  
“Yeah. Nothing too bad; just a bit tender.”  
  
Matt resumed his massage, though more gently now.  
  
“What did you do?” he asked.  
  
“Ah, nothing in particular,” Dom shrugged. “I think it’s still from the other week, when I wasn’t sleeping well.”  
  
Dom could feel Matt’s eyes beginning to burn a hole in the back of his head.  
  
“You mean, when we had our argument, right?” Matt probed.  
  
Dom smiled grimly.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
There was another pause, Matt’s mind clearly ticking over Dom’s words and the implications at usual high speeds.  
  
“Right, okay,” he said finally. “You weren’t sleeping well because you were upset then?”  
  
Dom turned his head, his smile softening.  
  
“Yeah, of course.”  
  
“So, you couldn’t sleep because of me?” Matt prompted.  
  
Dom fought the urge to roll his eyes, still leaning into Matt’s fingers that worked away on his muscles.  
  
“Come on, Matt. You know how much all that affected me,” he replied.  
  
Matt shrugged, fidgeting a little.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I guess. I just– I wasn’t sure, y’know?”  
  
Dom furrowed his brow, still smiling.  
  
“You couldn’t tell?” he asked. “With all the apologies and regret?”  
  
Matt leaned forward to rest his chin on Dom’s shoulder, halting his massage. One set of fingers wandered up to play idly at the back of the drummer’s neck. Dom was puzzled but let Matt reply to his question.  
  
“I know you were sorry. You just never mentioned you couldn’t sleep – that it was affecting you physically. Usually you tell me those things.”  
  
“Well, we weren’t exactly speaking at the time.”  
  
“Yeah, but I mean, afterwards. You’ve never explained what happened, or why you were acting that way.”  
  
Dom sighed and rubbed briefly at his eyes with his fingertips. It was true; he hadn’t been candid about his behaviour like he normally would have with Matt. Mostly because he was ashamed of himself and wanted to put all of it behind him. Clearly, Matt wasn’t happy with that idea.  
  
“Chris was winding me up about us,” Dom finally admitted.  
  
“About us?” Matt queried.  
  
“He said we spend too much time together. And it bothered me – more than it should have. I guess I was just feeling vulnerable and unstable, so I overreacted.”  
  
“Did you agree with him? That we spend too much time together?”  
  
“No. Of course not. I just didn’t like that _he_ thought that.”  
  
“So, you don’t think that now?”  
  
Dom smiled.  
  
“Would I be here if I did?”  
  
Matt shrugged again but didn’t say anything. Dom sensed he needed something more convincing than that. Dom lifted his arm up to curl his hand around the back of Matt’s neck, drawing the singer’s face forward a little. He turned his head, allowing his nose to graze Matt’s cheek and warm breath to play upon the skin there. He felt Matt tense a little at the close contact, but neither made a move to draw away.  
  
“I don’t think we spend too much time together – I never did think that,” he murmured. “I always want to spend time with you, yeah?”  
  
Matt turned his head now, the sharp gaze of his blue eyes penetrating straight through Dom, hitting him square in the chest. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as Matt watched him with a curious expression, their noses bumping as the brunette shifted in place. It seemed as though Matt was searching for something in his face, in his eyes, but Dom didn’t know what it was exactly.  
  
Finally, Matt pulled back and spoke carefully, more slowly than he usually did.  
  
“Good. I always want to spend time with you too. I think you’re what’s kept me sane over these last few months, when everything’s been so all over the place.”  
  
He was remarkably serious for such a deep conversation; usually Matt was the first to mess around and break the tension, but not this time. Dom did instead, starting to feel uncharacteristically awkward.  
  
“This is you sane? Man, I must’ve done a rubbish job then,” he grinned.  
  
Matt’s expression softened and he grinned back a toothy smile, nudging Dom’s forehead with his own.  
  
“Steady,” he replied. “Or you won’t get the rest of your massage.”  
  
“Oh, there’s more?” Dom asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you were done.”  
  
“Nah,” Matt said. “I can’t do it properly like this; I need you to lie down.”  
  
“Well, this settee isn’t the easiest to lie down on,” Dom pointed out. “The chaise isn’t long enough for that. Plus, you wouldn’t be able to reach properly.”  
  
“Yeah, I know. I actually meant go to the bedroom. There’s enough room on the mattress for you to lie flat and me to get to the muscles I need to.”  
  
Dom almost balked at Matt’s somewhat peculiar idea, but from the serious look that had returned to the brunette’s face and the fact that his shoulder _was_ still bothering him, he thought better of it. With a slightly curious expression playing on his features, Dom released Matt from their close embrace and stood, smoothing down his shirt.  
  
“Alright, let’s go then.”  
  
Matt grinned and levered himself up off the settee too, following Dom out of the lounge room.  
  
*  
  
It was dimmer in the bedroom, the thin cotton curtains pulled across the windows and balcony door to afford a little privacy. The door was open a crack, letting the warm afternoon breeze waft through and making the fabric dance lazily in its path. Dom padded across the carpet and climbed onto the bed, crawling to settle face down in the middle and curl his arms up under the pillow. He turned his head to watch Matt as he followed him, hitching a leg up onto the mattress. Dom huffed in surprise as Matt climbed atop him, straddling his hips to sit square on his arse.  
  
“What are you doing?” Dom asked, turning his head to shoot Matt a puzzled look.  
  
Matt returned Dom’s look with an equally confused one.  
  
“Well, I was gonna massage your back and shoulders, wasn’t I? Or do you not want me to now?”  
  
“Yes, I do want you to,” Dom replied. “But is it really necessary to sit on me with your bony arse?”  
  
Matt bounced in place maliciously, causing Dom to give a small yelp.  
  
“Your arse is just as bony,” he observed. “And I’m sitting right on the squishiest bit.”  
  
Dom couldn’t help the amused smile that curled onto his lips.  
  
“Right, so I mostly get your bollocks on me instead, then?”  
  
Matt giggled.  
  
“They’re squishy too.”  
  
Dom snorted a laugh.  
  
“Well, I fuckin’ hope so,” he said warily.  
  
“Says you, who’s greeted me several times in the morning with your wood pressing into my back,” Matt snickered.  
  
Dom felt his cheeks redden.  
  
“Have I?”  
  
Matt continued to giggle.  
  
“Yeah, you have actually.”  
  
“Shit. Sorry, I didn’t know,” Dom said sheepishly.  
  
Matt gave a dismissive wave.  
  
“S’alright. You can’t help it – the body does what the body does.”  
  
Dom relaxed, smiling.  
  
“Guess this is payback then?”  
  
“Exactly,” Matt grinned.  
  
However, as Matt reached down to begin kneading the drummer’s shoulders with his fingers, Dom wondered exactly how the massage part of this qualified as payback. Still, he wouldn’t argue, and found his whole body beginning to relax under the slow, steady touch of Matt’s hands. He dropped his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes, exhaling a sigh of contentment.  
  
Dom found time slipping away as Matt tended his muscles through his shirt with calculated attention that was typical of the brunette. He worked outwards from Dom’s spine, feeling out and pressing on each band of muscles, and paying particular heed to the spots where Dom winced. A few times the blonde almost cried out for Matt to stop, the pain nearly too intense to bear, but instead squeezed his eyes shut harder and saw it through. In the end it was worth it, as his muscles began to loosen and the pain in his shoulder faded away to a dull twinge.  
  
At any moment, Dom expected Matt to grow tired of it all and announce that he was done with the massage, his attention span usually short unless it was something associated with music. But Matt didn’t stop, didn’t voice a single complaint. In fact, his touch slowed and softened to depart from a firm, remedial massage into something more affectionate and uncharacteristic. As had so often been the case lately, Dom found Matt’s behaviour slightly confusing but not objectionable.  
  
If Matt wanted to be altruistic like this, then so be it. Dom was certainly not going to tell him not to; not when he was the one on the receiving end of Matt being so friendly. Besides, Dom believed it was a positive change for the singer – sometimes he _did_ need to be more open and warm with others, and this was a good start.  
  
Dom let out a hum of contentment as the singer’s hands stole under his shirt to rub across the bare skin on the small of his back. Then he smiled as thin fingers from one of those hands slid up to card through his hair. He found himself growing drowsy as the minutes ticked by, his ears attuned to the soft sounds of his and Matt’s breathing in the quiet room. He was a little disappointed when Matt finally stopped, removing his hands and rolling off Dom to lie beside him.  
  
Dom opened his eyes to find Matt on his side, facing him and watching with that same serious but soft expression on his features from when they were on the settee. The drummer returned it, studying Matt for a while, trying to work out what was going on in his head, though coming up with no obvious answers. He decided to take the simple approach.  
  
“What’s on your mind?” he asked.  
  
He turned to nudge Matt with his knee and smile a little. Matt threw a grin back, shrugging.  
  
“Home – England, I mean.”  
  
“Missing it?”  
  
“No, well, that’s the thing – I’m not. I thought I would, after being there for Chris’s birthday but it’s weird, yeah? Other than seeing family for Christmas, I don’t have any desire to go back there.”  
  
“You’re thinking of moving somewhere else, then?”  
  
“Maybe. I’m not sure. I’m pretty happy here at the moment, actually. Of course, I miss playing live but it’s not a severe craving just yet. I think it’s this place – it has some kind of voodoo power over me.”  
  
Dom grinned.  
  
“That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” he asked. “It’s a holiday destination where you forget about the rest of the world.”  
  
Matt tipped his head in thought.  
  
“I guess. But I’ve been to those kinds of places before, and it hasn’t really felt like this.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “Though, as you know, I’m not the same person I was before, so I suppose it _would_ be different.”  
  
“Hmmm. Well, it doesn’t really matter for now, does it? It’s not like you need to make a decision immediately about where you’re going to live. I’m happy to hang about here with you, especially since we’re working on the new album.”  
  
“And when that’s done? What then?”  
  
Dom gave a casual shrug.  
  
“Cross that bridge when you come to it. Besides, we’ll probably be doing the first round of touring by then, and it won’t really matter that you don’t have permanent residence.”  
  
“I just – I’d like to have somewhere. Somewhere that feels like home, yeah?”  
  
A slightly quizzical expression appeared on Dom’s face.  
  
“Doesn’t sound like you. I remember the days when you couldn’t give a fuck about planning anything or having roots anywhere,” he smiled. “I guess you must be getting old.”  
  
Matt giggled.  
  
“Yeah, well, I guess in that way I am,” he agreed.  
  
“It’s alright – I am too.”  
  
Dom’s smile turned into a grin again. He rolled over onto his side, watching Matt for a while as the singer got lost in his own thoughts. He knew he had no hope of keeping up with Matt’s lightning-fast mind, so he didn’t probe further for details, just let his eyelids droop and body relax.  
  
He opened his eyes again after a few minutes as he felt Matt shift and roll over to turn his back to Dom, shuffling closer. Dom lifted an arm as Matt aligned their bodies, allowing him to draw right up against him. He then let his arm curl around the singer’s waist to rest his hand on Matt’s belly.  
  
“Yeah, you’re older than me so I’ll always have you there to take the piss out of,” Matt giggled. “So, it’s not so bad.”  
  
Dom snorted and bit Matt’s shoulder in retaliation. Matt squeaked and turned his head to throw Dom a cheeky grin.  
  
“Yeah, it’s not so bad,” Dom agreed.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom and Matt return to the Caribbean after the silly season and Dom uses their time alone to drive some deeper secrets out of Matt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the boys playing Texas Hold ‘Em poker. My knowledge of this is pretty limited, so I apologise for any errors. It has a little bit of jargon, but it’s not necessary to understand it to read the chapter.

The festive season came and went in a blur. Dom returned to Teignmouth to visit his mum, eating and drinking far too much, and talking rubbish with relatives and friends he hadn’t seen in months. He caught up with Chris, Tom and Morgan, though also ended up spending an inordinate amount of time with Matt again.  
  
He supposed it was simply a habit he had of late, gravitating toward Matt, and it seemed fitting to be with his closest friend at that time of year anyway. It also helped him escape questions from his family about his girlfriend, or lack thereof; he liked that he didn’t have to explain himself to Matt.  
  
The two of them returned to the Caribbean a few days into the New Year, thoroughly partied-out and ready to start tackling the new album afresh. Chris would be joining them soon, as he wanted a few more days in England to see family and friends, though promised to knuckle-down as soon as he was back. Dom wasn’t particularly worried, and he didn’t think Matt was either; Chris was a one-take wonder when it came to recording, so his absence for the rest of the week wasn’t likely to put them behind.  
  
In a way, the weather after their return seemed to be conducive to working on the album, with storm clouds gathering and a thickness to the air outside. It wasn’t pleasant for cycling or walking, and Dom and Matt ended up retreating indoors the first day or so, at the threat of rain.  
  
It gave them a chance to tinker with the new songs for extended periods, and Matt returned to his piano to tackle his compositions. Dom thought he had more success than before Christmas, and the singer certainly seemed a lot less frustrated than he had been. He didn’t compose too late into the night and took breaks of his own volition, much to Dom’s relief.  
  
When the rain eventually hit, it wasn’t like England, where even if it was a bit miserable, there were usually lulls where you could at least nip to the shops or visit someone. In the Caribbean, when it rained, it absolutely poured, and there was no possibility of leaving the house whatsoever.  
  
Fortunately, when they weren’t working on the album, Dom was perfectly happy whiling the hours away playing cards with Matt. Many late nights were spent trying to win chips from one another, with Dom usually the one ending up with the biggest stash. He was better at poker; he’d had more practice with Tom, Morgan and the crew when Matt had travelled back to Italy while on tour.  
  
Dom supposed that wouldn’t happen anymore, given what Matt had said about his house at Como. Perhaps eventually, Matt would grow more skilled than him at cards, but for the time being the drummer still had the upper hand. Though Matt never complained about it. Dom guessed, like himself, the interest was more in playing the game and socialising than actually winning.  
  
The socialising part came as something of a surprise to Dom. He didn’t remember Matt being particularly talkative during cards before, but during the downpours, his bandmate couldn’t seem to shut up. Dom never prompted him, and barely replied half the time, but Matt opened up regardless, about whatever was on his mind that day.  
  
Sometimes it was trivial topics – the TV shows and movies they’d been watching, or their favourite places to visit for seafood or wine. Other times it was serious, and a deeper insight into Matt as a person – what he thought about human nature and society as a whole, as well as discussion of Gaia and his views on relationships. Dom paid particular attention to the latter, and often hoped for those topics above all others when Matt chatted during their games.  
  
And Dom found he was learning exactly how to coax Matt into talking frankly about his emotions, able to steer the conversation in certain directions without upsetting the singer or having him clam up. It was a careful process, and required him to pay attention to Matt’s discomfort or anxiety, but he’d learnt enough over the years how to pacify Matt if he did overstep a boundary.  
  
On the third night of rain, Dom was negotiating a conversation that needed the soft-touch, and one he was acutely aware could go awry any moment. It was a topic they’d broached before – Matt’s open relationship – but the last time had ended with the singer becoming defensive and a little pissed off with him.  
  
Matt had already been discussing his time with Gaia, how their relationship had changed over the years, so Dom decided to guide things into slightly more dangerous territory. He dealt the cards for the round and then set the deck aside, flicking his gaze up at Matt before choosing his next words carefully.  
  
“So, in your open relationship, did Gaia find it hard to bring other women in?” Dom asked. “I mean, was she ever afraid that you’d fall for them?”  
  
Matt paused for a few moments before replying.  
  
“At first, maybe. But she quickly realised it was always about the physical side with them, and nothing else,” he explained. “And even then, y’know, she wasn’t really bothered. I mean, she’s a model – it’s not like she had to worry about not being attractive to me.”  
  
“Yeah, she _was_ pretty fit.” Matt scowled at him, but Dom just gave a wry smile. “Oh come on, you can’t get defensive _now_ – you’re not together anymore.”  
  
“Yeah, I know. I know I can’t. And I don’t usually care, but it’s you.” Matt thought for a moment. “I suppose it’s habit from when you used to steal girls from me.”  
  
“I didn’t _steal_ them,” Dom defended. “They came willingly. Usually because you had such a short attention span, and had been distracted by something or someone else.”  
  
Matt scoffed but there was a smile on his lips.  
  
“Maybe, maybe.”  
  
The two of them were silent for a while as they assessed their hole cards, and then put in their bets. Dom used the time to formulate his next question.  
  
“Well… what about bringing in other men, then?” he asked slowly. “Did that worry you?”  
  
He saw Matt tense, and the singer’s eyes came up to meet his, the gaze wary.  
  
“ _Dom_ …”  
  
Dom held a hand up, tipping his head slightly.  
  
“Look, I know. I know you said you didn’t want to talk about that with me, because there are some things you don’t want to share,” he said gently. “But we’ve been away from everything for a while now, and I think we know each other better than we did before. At least, that’s how it seems to me.”  
  
Matt didn’t reply right away, his eyes going back down to check his cards again.  
  
“Why do you want to know about that?” he said eventually, his voice soft.  
  
Dom shrugged.  
  
“I don’t know. I’m curious, I suppose. How things worked exactly in your open relationship is not something you’ve ever really explained. And I didn’t even know that it included men until a few months ago,” he said. “Also, you’re usually so frank about sex, that it makes me wonder why you’re not this time.”  
  
Dom reached back to the deck and began to deal the flop. Matt shrugged and then fidgeted for a while before replying.  
  
“Bringing in other men for Gaia wasn’t a problem for me. I liked to see her enjoying herself, and to be honest I can’t really think of any of them that were all that good for me to worry.”  
  
Dom smirked at this. He knew Matt wasn’t trying to be boastful, only honest; over the years they’d had plenty of practice with groupies to know that their bedroom skills were certainly up to scratch.  
  
“And most of the time she’d coax me back in, or get me to instruct them, so I never really felt left out, actually,” Matt continued. “It was similar to group sex – you’ve just got to learn to focus on more than one person at a time, y’know? Not really that difficult once you get the hang of it and let your ego go.”  
  
He reached down to check his hole cards once more, and then put in his next bet.  
  
“Well, the group sex I understand, from experience, as you well know,” Dom said. “But with just three people, and two of them being men…” He rubbed at the side of his face, his brow furrowing a little. “I mean, wasn’t it a bit weird?”  
  
Matt sat back against the settee cushions as Dom dealt the turn and they contemplated their hands.  
  
“Not really. It was just like any other threesome, y’know?”  
  
“Right, yeah I know. But did you…”  
  
Dom trailed off, gesturing, but not really sure how to put it delicately. He knew if he worded it incorrectly, Matt could withdraw or change the subject.  
  
Matt raised an eyebrow, waiting.  
  
“Did I what?”  
  
“Well, considering how reluctant you’ve been about this, I think I already know the answer, but I’ll ask anyway.”  
  
“Go on then, stop pissing about.”  
  
“Did you actually get involved with the men as well? I mean, you didn’t just tell them how to shag Gaia and that was it, did you?”  
  
Matt reached for his wine, staring down into the glass and not meeting Dom’s eyes. Dom noticed his cheeks and the tops of his ears starting to turn slightly pink, and the singer shifted in place for a few moments on the couch.  
  
“No, I didn’t,” Matt said finally, only just audible.  
  
“Okay,” Dom said carefully. He waited a beat before continuing. “What then? They fucked you too?”  
  
Matt’s head shot up at this, and he levelled a determined gaze at Dom.  
  
“No, I never got fucked,” he said firmly.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“I _didn’t_. It never happened.”  
  
“O _kay_ , I believe you,” Dom said in earnest. “Really, I do.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
They put in their bets again and Dom dealt the final community card.  
  
“So, did you fuck _them?_ ”  
  
“Dom, I don’t want to talk about this.”  
  
“Come on, we’ve got this far. What does it matter? I’m not going to tell anyone, and you know I won’t judge you for it.”  
  
“Do I? Do I know that?”  
  
Dom furrowed his brow in concern.  
  
“You _should_. I would hope you do.”  
  
He sighed and stood up from the beanbag he was sitting on, rounding the table to join Matt on the settee. He put a hand on Matt’s shoulder, mildly alarmed by the shake he thought he saw in the singer’s grip on the wine glass.  
  
“I won’t judge you Matt. I never have done, and I’m not going to start now. Especially not with something like this. It’s not a big deal.”  
  
“It is for me.”  
  
“Okay, I understand that. But it won’t change things between us, alright?”  
  
Matt exhaled slowly and set his glass on the table, drumming his fingers there restlessly for a few moments.  
  
“It’s just a bit complicated, yeah? I mean, it’s not that I regret anything I’ve done – you know I won’t do something if I don’t really want to. I was fine with all of it, and only did what I wanted to do, but it ended up being a sticking point between me and Gaia.”  
  
“But wasn’t she the one that invited men in?” Dom asked, confused.  
  
“Yeah, mostly. Sometimes we picked them together, but a lot of the time she just chose who she wanted. But I think it turned out she liked the idea in theory more than practice. At least, when it came to me, I think.”  
  
Dom was still puzzled.  
  
“But didn’t you say she was trying to include you in the sex? Surely she didn’t decide half way through that she didn’t want you there?”  
  
Matt shook his head, reaching for his wine again.  
  
“No, no, nothing like that. I think she didn’t realise I would be so, erm, _eager_ to participate.” Matt lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck, the top of his cheeks flushing again. “With _all_ members of the threesome,” he added. “In every way.”  
  
Dom lifted an eyebrow.  
  
“Oh, right.”  
  
He was quiet for a while, pondering on Matt’s words, before throwing caution to the wind.  
  
“So, you _did_ fuck them, then?” Dom pressed.  
  
“Jesus, Dom,” Matt muttered, throwing him a look.  
  
“Come on.”  
  
Matt let out a long-suffering sigh.  
  
“Yeah, alright, I did – I fucked them. And that was the problem. She didn’t like that. She didn’t like seeing me in that way, even though it’s basically the same fucking thing as if I were with a woman. Which she had no problem with, as I said.” Matt took a breath, and then continued. “But after the first time I really got into it with a man involved and was touching them, fucking them, she got all bloody weird. She went off the idea of threesomes with men altogether, and said we shouldn’t do it anymore. I tried to find out why, but she would never tell me.”  
  
Dom furrowed his brow.  
  
“Yeah, that seems a bit strange. You’d think it would bother her more seeing you with other women.”  
  
“You’d think so, yeah. _I_ would’ve thought so. I don’t know. I don’t know what it is.” He corrected himself. “What it _was_. I think it’s just the Italian thing.”  
  
Dom smirked, throwing Matt a quizzical look.  
  
“The Italian thing?”  
  
“Oh, you know how they can be so outrageous about some things, and then oddly conservative about others. I think this was one of those conservative things. Seeing two men together was a bit too confronting or something. Even though it was _her_ fucking idea.”  
  
Matt sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. Dom’s expression softened and he set a hand on Matt’s arm; he hadn’t meant to push so hard.  
  
“Well, it does sound like her just being confused about things, rather than anything _you_ did. So you don’t have to feel bad about it.”  
  
“I know. I don’t. Not in myself, anyway. But I think it was something that affected our relationship. How she saw me as a person.” He cleared his throat and tipped his head in thought. “Maybe our sex life too. I don’t know.”  
  
Matt flicked his hole cards over on the table.  
  
“I fold. You win.”  
  
Dom slipped his arm around the back of Matt’s shoulders, squeezing with his hand on the other side.  
  
“Well, if something as insignificant as that could change her view of you, then clearly she didn’t know you that well anyway. Which we already knew,” Dom pointed out.  
  
Matt was quiet for a while, setting his wine glass down on the table and leaning hesitantly into Dom’s embrace.  
  
“Yeah, I know. But it’s not _her_ view of me I’m worried about anymore, really, is it?”  
  
Dom turned his head to look down into Matt’s face, slightly surprised.  
  
“Me?”  
  
Matt cracked a grin.  
  
“Of course, you.”  
  
Dom returned the smile, though still puzzled.  
  
“Why are you so worried about what I think of you these days?” he asked. “You never cared before.”  
  
“I did so.”  
  
“Okay, yeah. But not this much.”  
  
Matt’s smile turned softer.  
  
“Maybe I did. Maybe I just never told you. Maybe I didn’t want you to know that I needed your approval.”  
  
Now Dom _was_ surprised.  
  
“You need my approval?”  
  
Matt rested his chin on Dom’s shoulder, looking up at him with a wry smile.  
  
“Well… yeah. I guess I do. I think I always have done.”  
  
Dom felt his chest warm at this admission and his smile widened into a full-blown grin, the singer mirroring it a moment later.  
  
“I didn’t know that. I kind of like it,” Dom murmured. “It’s nice to know.”  
  
He turned his head and pressed a kiss against Matt’s hairline. The brunette snorted and Dom rolled his eyes, nudging Matt with his shoulder and shaking his head a little. They stayed like this for a while, a silence descending as Matt seemed to get lost in his own thoughts. Dom was curious, as always, as to what was going through the singer’s head, but didn’t want to intrude by asking.  
  
Though, after a few minutes Dom grew even more intrigued when Matt slid his hand up Dom’s side to lay it across his belly, only to snatch it back a moment later, as though changing his mind about something. Dom waited a breath, but Matt didn’t move again or explain, so he reached over to grab the hand and return it to its previous position.  
  
Matt turned his head to look at Dom, his brow furrowing.  
  
“What are you doing?” Matt asked.  
  
“What are _you_ doing?” Dom countered.  
  
“Nothing. Nothing, really. You grabbed my hand; that’s why I asked.”  
  
Dom’s mouth curled into a lazy smile.  
  
“Because you already put it there,” he pointed out. “I was just putting it back again. You don’t want it there?”  
  
Matt’s expression was guarded.  
  
“I didn’t say that.”  
  
“Well, you took it away. So does that mean you think I don’t want it there?”  
  
Matt raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Do you?”  
  
Dom chuckled.  
  
“I don’t really mind either way – do whatever you want to do.”  
  
Matt looked uncertain, though Dom wasn’t sure exactly what about.  
  
“Okay,” he said finally.  
  
Matt left his hand where it was. Dom had the urge to press Matt for more information again, figure out exactly what was going on with his bandmate, but eventually decided against it. They’d already done plenty of emotional sharing that day, certainly more than Matt usually did, and Dom wasn’t in the mood to start an argument. Besides, he felt entirely content with their current position – more than content, if he was truly honest – and didn’t want to disturb the moment with unnecessary conversation.  
  
Dom looked down to watch Matt’s fingers fidget slowly on the fabric of his shirt, the long digits tracing small, indistinct patterns back and forth. He smiled to himself at Matt’s restless nature, those hands of his never able to stay still for more than a few seconds. Not that Dom minded it at the moment; he was enjoying the way Matt’s fingertips felt pressing upon his shirt and through to his skin. The sensation added to his general feelings of relaxation, and he let a slow breath escape from between his lips.  
  
The movements of Matt’s fingers eventually began to slow, and Dom used the opportunity to lift his free hand to his belly and lay lightly it over the singer’s. He let his fingertips stroke down the back of Matt’s hand and then over the digits, the gesture a half-hearted attempt to calm the brunette’s persistent motions.  
  
Matt did still a little and turned his head to flick a glance up at Dom, his gaze distant and unreadable. He then lifted his fingers to lace them through Dom’s and squeezed at his hand, a soft smile curling onto his lips. Dom smiled back, pressing back at Matt’s hand in response.  
  
*  
  
The following day, the rain abated for the most part, allowing them to venture outside to collect supplies. Unfortunately, the rest of the conditions from the hurricane remained. The air was hot and humid, and their ride to the market was uncomfortable and tiring, requiring a cold shower for both of them as soon as they got back home. The stillness also meant the house refused to cool down, the rooms stifling at times, even after they conceded defeat and turned up the air-conditioning.  
  
Matt spent the vast majority of the day grumbling about the weather, much to Dom’s amusement, even though he too was sick of feeling so uncomfortable. He tried to quell the singer’s frustration by pulling out a trusty bucket of ice cubes, but that didn’t appease him for long. Matt seemed to grow more restless as Dom adorned himself with ice and cooled his body under the air-conditioning vents, which Dom put down to him being envious of the relief. He offered to swap positions for Matt to have a turn, but the brunette brushed him off and skulked out to the balcony for some time.  
  
Dom let him be, putting his stroppy attitude down to the weather, though deep down he suspected there was more to it than that. Whatever it was, Matt clearly didn’t want to vocalise it, at least not yet, and Dom was too tired from the heat to bother with the emotional exertion it would require to get it out of him. So, he left him on his own for a little while before eventually joining him outside, bringing a packet of cigarettes with him.  
  
He lit one as he wandered out, still only clad in cotton shorts despite the fact that the day had grown slightly cooler now. It was late afternoon and the sun was starting to go down, and Dom discarded his sunglasses on the table to see the view unobstructed. He took a seat and a few drags of his cigarette, finding instead that his gaze was drawn to his bandmate rather than the scenery in front of him.  
  
Matt was leaning on the balustrade with his elbows, staring down at the thick, dark foliage below on the hill in front of their house. Dom wondered if he’d been there all the time, or if he’d been sitting in a chair and moved when he’d realised the drummer was joining him outside. The thought made Dom’s stomach knot.  
  
He took another puff of his cigarette, flicking ash off the end with a twitch of his wrist and studying Matt’s form for a few more moments. He then stood up and made his way over to where Matt was standing unusually motionless. The brunette jumped when Dom’s hand brushed gently between his shoulder blades. He turned his head and Dom offered him a smile.  
  
“Alright?”  
  
Matt didn’t return his smile immediately, his expression appearing guarded.  
  
“Yeah. Just thinking.”  
  
He smiled a little now, and Dom’s hand came to rest at the small of his back.  
  
“Shouldn’t try too hard – you might break something,” Dom deadpanned.  
  
Matt’s smile became crooked, and he poked at Dom’s belly with long fingers before stealing the cigarette from his other hand.  
  
“Piss off,” he murmured.  
  
Dom grinned and slid his hand across almost unconsciously to the narrow waist of his best friend, fingers finding their own place upon Matt’s bare skin. Matt didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he clearly didn’t mind, because he continued to stare out over the trees and horizon while he finished off Dom’s cigarette.  
  
They watched the skyline in silence for some time, and Dom’s eyes tracked over bands of heavy cloud approaching from the north-west.  
  
“I wonder if there’ll be rain again tonight,” he pondered.  
  
His voice sounded loud in the hush of the late afternoon. The sun began to sink further in the sky, the light around them becoming paler and casting long shadows across the balcony. They stayed there for a while longer in silence, before Matt retreated indoors to the piano, signalling for Dom to join him.  
  
He practised the pieces he’d composed for the new album, seemingly a lot more satisfied with their progress than he had been before; they sounded almost complete now to Dom. Matt followed with snippets of _Butterflies and Hurricanes_ as the light in the room began to fade, and then onto a slow piece that Dom guessed was probably Chopin. The room was almost dark when Matt finally finished, and Dom smiled at the way his best friend could practically play simply by feel.  
  
They had a small, simple dinner, the heat quelling their hunger more than usual, and spent the rest of the evening sprawled on the settee together. Matt was reading a science book by Richard Dawkins, something far too heavy-going for Dom to even contemplate, so the drummer had his iPod instead, listening to a few of his electronic chill-out playlists.  
  
It was a very subdued evening for the two of them, giving Dom the chance to get lost in his own thoughts and reflect on what the new album would bring for them. He’d almost forgotten what those first few weeks of press and promotion were like; he was going to have to prepare himself again for the hectic schedule and repetitive interviews.  
  
He turned his head to voice this thought to Matt, but looked over to find the singer dozing, his open book resting below his chin. Dom smiled, an unexpected affection welling up in his chest. He slid his hand to Matt’s side, squeezing to gently rouse him. Matt stirred and blinked sleepily, a smile curling onto his lips. Dom nodded his head toward the bedroom and Matt put his book aside, sitting up and stretching.  
  
They prepared for bed in relative silence, only exchanging a few words here and there while they brushed their teeth and foraged for sleepwear. The warmth and stillness of the night made Dom reluctant about pulling his shirt on, and only a few minutes after they’d turned the light out and settled against one another, the drummer decided he’d had enough.  
  
Perhaps if they’d dragged the standing fan back into the bedroom and Dom had been by himself, the heat and humidity would have been tolerable and he would have been able to doze off. But they only had the air conditioning, and Matt was curled up against him, their limbs tangled and the sheet discarded below their feet. Dom knew he wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep like this.  
  
He extricated himself from Matt’s embrace and sat up, Matt grumbling at the disturbance. He could feel the singer’s eyes on him in the dark as he peeled his shirt from his damp body, immediately feeling the relief of the air upon his bare skin.  
  
“What are you doing?” Matt asked.  
  
Dom wondered if he was imagining the slight edge of panic to Matt’s tone.  
  
“It’s bloody hot. I can’t sleep with this many clothes on when we’re cuddling like this,” he informed him.  
  
“We’re not _cuddling_ ,” Matt argued.  
  
Dom chuckled.  
  
“You know what I mean. You’re a heat machine when you sleep, so I’m way too hot being close to you dressed like this,” he explained.  
  
Matt was quiet for a few moments, and when Dom looked over he could see the shine of Matt’s eyes in the dark, studying him.  
  
“But you’ll be in bed with no shirt on,” Matt said finally.  
  
“So?”  
  
“So, it’s weird.”  
  
Dom laughed again, slightly bewildered.  
  
“I’m just hot, alright? I need one less layer on – you’ll still have yours, so how is it really any different than usual?” he asked.  
  
“It just is.”  
  
Dom sighed in frustration, shifting.  
  
“Fine, whatever,” he said. “If you’re gonna be like that, I’ll go and sleep in the spare room.”  
  
He turned to climb out of bed but Matt’s hand flew out to grab his arm.  
  
“No, wait. I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t want you to go.”  
  
There was a strange sincerity to Matt’s voice that made Dom stop. He turned back to look at Matt again, trying to scrutinise his expression in the dark.  
  
“I didn’t know if it was okay,” Matt added.  
  
Dom furrowed his brow in confusion.  
  
“Yeah – why wouldn’t it be?” he asked. “It’s okay with me if it’s okay with you.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Dom eased himself back beside Matt, lying on his side to face him.  
  
“Alright?”  
  
Matt nodded but then sat up. He began to pull off his own shirt, and discarded it beside the bed.  
  
“It _is_ better like this, yeah. The air is too still to sleep otherwise.”  
  
Dom threw Matt a puzzled look, but the singer didn’t elaborate, and Dom turned over, his back to Matt. After a few moments he felt Matt shuffle closer, and a narrow arm slid around his waist, legs tangling with his own once again. When Dom settled back against him and their bodies aligned, the drummer’s breath hitched.  
  
He was slightly startled by the way it felt to be this close to Matt, skin upon skin, and all at once he noticed the warmth of Matt’s body, the shape of his bones, and the dampness of his breath on Dom’s neck. He was almost sure he could feel Matt’s heart hammering against his back, but couldn’t be sure it wasn’t his imagination because own was beating so rapidly. He took a few slow breaths, but could feel adrenaline rushing through his veins all the same.  
  
Dom wasn’t really sure why his body was reacting like this; it was only Matt, and they’d been close in this way plenty of times before. Granted, most of that was probably when they were much younger, but it had never been a problem and Dom certainly didn’t remember it feeling quite this intense before. Though he figured some of the reason for that was because he could sense Matt’s reaction as well, and the strange mood he’d been in. He supposed that was one disadvantage of knowing Matt so well now – his unsettled and peculiar mood was easier to pick up and rubbed off on Dom sometimes.  
  
However, what Dom felt now was not something that he would describe as bad or uncomfortable. In fact, that was probably the part that had him so confused – being held by Matt like this seemed completely natural, and filled him with uncharacteristic warmth. He enjoyed this intimacy far more than he thought he probably should, given that they were thirty-something mates in a band together.  
  
At this thought, Dom realised maybe that was what had put Matt in a strange mood earlier. Perhaps Matt was questioning the time they spent together, and thought that their relationship was not entirely healthy or normal. But who was to say what was normal anyway, with the type of lives they led. Besides, Matt was direct enough to say it outright, and he wouldn’t have embraced Dom if he hadn’t really wanted to.  
  
Dom pushed aside his concerns, knowing he was really worrying over nothing, and relaxed against Matt’s body, just enjoying the sensations that washed over him. The night was still hot but Dom hardly noticed now, focusing instead on how content he felt and the sound of Matt’s breathing in the darkness.  
  
His mouth curled into a smile as he felt Matt lean his head forward and press a brief kiss on the back of his neck, before he drifted off into a sound sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Dom take some time to expand their minds, though the repercussions extend further than Dom realises.

Dom wasn’t exactly sure if this was a good idea. It probably wasn’t, but Matt had a way of talking him around to his point of view when he was trying to get Dom to participate.  
  
Actually, it wasn’t just him; Matt had a way of talking _most_ people around. Something about the way he spoke, his enthusiasm for certain things, made it all sound so plausible, so logical, so sensible. Sometimes Dom wondered if in another life Matt could have been a salesman or an evangelical preacher.  
  
Dom reiterated the point in his head – this probably _wasn’t_ a good idea, but he was going to do it anyway, as always. Life was more fun that way, and to be honest, he was grateful to Matt for it. Though, he had to admit he was a little nervous to be doing this again. It had been a while, a couple of years maybe, but it wasn’t as though it was something you forgot how to do. It was all just a matter of relaxing and taking everything as it came, letting it wash over you. He remembered that part well enough.  
  
Dom accepted his cup as Matt poured out the tea, and let it cool for a while. Matt poured his own and then came to sit by Dom on the settee, his sock-clad feet up on the cushions and body turned slightly to face him. He nursed his cup between his knees, blowing on it and flicking glances up at Dom.  
  
“Alright?” Matt queried.  
  
Dom cracked a smile.  
  
“Yeah, fine. You?”  
  
“Yeah.” Matt’s eyes went down to the tea and he screwed up his nose as he evidently got a whiff of the brew. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to, y’know?” he continued. “Just thought you might want to, cos we haven’t done it for ages, as a nostalgia thing I guess. Or just to chill out and have a bit of fun. Both really. It just feels like it’s been ages since we’ve done this kind of thing together – not to say that being here as we are isn’t good too. It’s just different, yeah?”  
  
Dom’s smile grew wider, more relaxed.  
  
“You know I’d say no if I didn’t want to. It’s good, it’s alright.” He shook his head a little, grinning. “I just have no idea how you even got these here.”  
  
“I know people,” Matt informed him mysteriously.  
  
Dom snorted.  
  
“You _know_ people,” he repeated in a murmur, shaking his head.  
  
Matt giggled.  
  
Dom lifted the tea to his lips, remembering to inhale through his mouth first so as not to smell it too much. It didn’t taste particularly good either, but that wasn’t really the point.  
  
It was cool enough now to drink, and Dom took a few generous gulps before setting the cup back down on the coffee table. Matt was sipping at his slowly, face full of concentration. It was one of the last images that fixed in Dom’s mind before it slowly began to be enveloped by the effects of the drugs.  
  
It crept up on him slowly, numbing the corners of his mind but making the rest bright with awareness and curiosity. He felt relaxed yet alert, the whole world around him beginning to slide into a strange but beautiful harmony. He let himself drift for some time, taking it all in, and occasionally closing his eyes just to listen to the small sounds around the room.  
  
Matt’s breathing was a steady rhythm close to him, and once or twice Dom noticed the dull slide of fabric upon the settee cushions as Matt stretched himself out, beginning to sink into his own experience. Dom could hear the faint creak of the balcony door and distant birdsong from outside, as well as the slow, steady pulse of blood in his veins.  
  
An hour or so later Dom felt completely immersed in sensation, his body humming with contentment and the slightest hint of exhilaration. He’d moved a few times, feeling the need to get up and wander around the room every now and then, as well as drift over to engage with Matt. Matt didn’t seem to be as responsive as he usually was when high, though in his current state Dom couldn’t tell if it was something he was imagining because it had been so long since they’d done this.  
  
Still, Matt appeared to be focused on something particular in his own head, because he didn’t gaze around the room or interact much with anything. Dom watched him stare down at his hands, then at his chest, before placing a palm across his ribs and curling his fingers into his shirt. Matt then took a long breath and crawled onto the floor, stretching out and resting the back of his hand over his eyes. Dom tipped his head, eyeing him, allowing his own body to sprawl out upon the settee. His hand dangled off the edge and came into contact with Matt’s arm, his fingers starting to trail along the bare skin he’d discovered.  
  
“You’re far away,” Dom said, the words coming slowly.  
  
“I’m right here.”  
  
“I know. But I can’t see you.”  
  
Matt pulled his arm away from his eyes and looked over at Dom.  
  
“I’m right here,” he repeated.  
  
Dom’s hand came to rest in the crook of Matt’s elbow.  
  
“Yes, I can see you. But I can’t see… _you_.” He paused. “Do you know what I mean?”  
  
Matt’s eyes shifted away but he nodded.  
  
“I can’t get back. I’m not sure how I got here in the first place. All these things pulled me away and I didn’t want to go.”  
  
“What things?” Dom asked.  
  
Matt sat up and hung his head between his knees, his breathing loud.  
  
“My life and everything in it. Thoughts and feelings and desires.”  
  
He shuddered at the last, as though trying to push it from his head, keep it away from himself.  
  
“You should come back,” Dom informed him, touching his hand to Matt’s knee.  
  
Matt put his legs down and raised his hands to his head, fingers twisting in his hair.  
  
“I can’t. I want to but I can’t. Not anymore.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
Matt shook his head.  
  
“It’s all stuck in my head and it’s too much, too much, too _much_. I can’t sort it out, can’t think, can’t feel properly. I don’t even know _what_ I think, what I feel. It’s all fucked. Fucked, fucked, _fucked_.”  
  
Matt was starting to babble, working himself into a state that, given his ample intake of psychedelics, was not constructive in the least. Dom’s mind was perceptive, and he understood that something needed to be done, but all sense of logic and practicality had left him some time ago. He wasn’t sure how to help Matt out of this situation, largely because Matt had never really flipped out when they’d gotten high before.  
  
Dom moved slowly, carefully, from his position on the settee, down to the floor where Matt was. He reached over, watching his own hand as he slid it behind Matt’s neck and placed the other on Matt’s shoulder.  
  
The singer barely seemed to notice and continued on his rant, his head lolled forward and eyes darting from side to side.  
  
“I’m fucked up and I can’t fix it, no matter what I try. And no-one will want that, they won’t want it at all. They won’t want me. Why would they? Who would want someone so fucked up that they don’t even know who they are anymore? I used to know who I was. I used to know, used to be so sure, and it was good. Now I don’t, I don’t know, I don’t, I don’t–!”  
  
Dom now grabbed hold of Matt’s head with his hands, trying to calm his hysteria, his thumbs stroking along the sharp cheekbones. Matt was still manic, his eyes squeezing shut and opening in quick succession, and head nodding forward and back, trying to escape Dom’s grip. He shook his head and muttered something, babbling again before Dom forced his face up to meet his.  
  
“Matt, Matt, _Matt_ ,” he pressed. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Everything’s alright.”  
  
“No, no, no, it’s not fucking alright. It’s fucked, it’s all fucked, and I can’t. I just _can’t_.”  
  
Dom realised Matt was trying to get away so the drummer couldn’t see the shine of tears in his eyes, threatening to spill over. Dom held fast and pulled Matt closer, drawing a cry from the thin lips and a twist of his head to shield his face from view. But Dom pushed his jaw up, a little roughly, and pressed his forehead against Matt’s, trying to keep him still.  
  
When he opened his eyes again Matt’s were closed, but a few thin lines of tears now stained his ruddy cheeks. Dom felt his chest tighten at the sight and was overwhelmed by a flash of raw affection and concern that he wasn’t precisely sure how to deal with.  
  
He took a breath and let his thumb trace the path of one of the tears, pressing against Matt’s skin.  
  
“Everything is really okay, I promise,” he reassured him. “You’re fine – you’re not fucked up, believe me. I know you. I know who you are.”  
  
Matt was shaking now under Dom’s touch, his breaths shallow and eyes still shut. Tears leaked from the side of his lids and Dom followed them with his fingertips, brushing them away. He nuzzled their path with his nose and let his cheek rest against Matt’s, one hand going into Matt’s hair.  
  
“Dom, _please_.” Matt’s voice was barely audible. “I don’t know. Tell me. I don’t know,” he begged. “I don’t know anymore.”  
  
Dom’s brow furrowed with concern, and he turned his head to press a kiss against Matt’s cheek.  
  
“You’re Matt, is who you are. My best mate and a brilliant person. That’s all that’s important.” He was murmuring against Matt’s skin now, desperate to calm the distressed singer. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m here; I’ll take care of you.”  
  
One of Matt’s hands had come up to grasp Dom’s neck, the other fisted in his shirt. He was still trembling, and seemed to tug Dom closer, his eyes opening slightly. Dom placed another kiss upon his cheek, then again at the corner of his mouth, before his lips slid easily onto Matt’s.  
  
Dom felt his mind’s eye fill with sudden splashes of colour. A glow swelled inside his chest and he imagined it extending to Matt, comforting him. At that moment he could think of no better way to console his best friend; this type of affection seemed natural, fitting somehow.  
  
He broke contact and drew back a little, his eyes tracking over Matt’s face. His tears had stopped and his eyes were open, though lids low and a flicker of curiosity in the blue depths. Dom tipped his head to press another kiss upon Matt’s mouth, and after a few moments he felt Matt’s lips curl into a smile beneath. He couldn’t help his own break into a grin, and before he knew it, Matt was giggling against him, their noses nudging.  
  
Matt pulled back this time and stared into Dom’s face for a while, smile still present, and then let his head loll forward into the crook of Dom’s neck. He giggled a little more, the grip on Dom’s shirt loosened, and Dom started to card his fingers through Matt’s dishevelled locks.  
  
They stayed like this for some time, Matt’s warm breaths puffing against the skin of Dom’s neck, and Dom sliding his other hand down to rub slow circles over Matt’s back.  
  
Eventually Matt lifted his head and sat back, his eyes trained on Dom once more.  
  
“Alright?” Dom asked.  
  
Matt nodded and gave him a crooked smile. Dom smiled back.  
  
“Yes, I’m alright. _Better_.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
With Matt calmed, the rest of the experience passed without incident. They climbed up to relax back on the settee and let their eyes wander, staring up at the ceiling, out to the balcony, and often back at each other.  
  
At these times, Dom felt the rest of the room shrink, Matt’s gaze filling every part of him until it seemed like there was no separation between where one of them ended and the other began. It wasn’t the same as when Matt laid himself bare; this connection appeared to go both ways, and far deeper. But too many years had passed for Dom to remember whether he’d had that link with Matt before when they’d been high.  
  
After some time, the effects of the mushrooms began to wear off, and the two of them slowly, though quite pleasantly, began to come back down to earth. Dom could always tell Matt was sobering up when his mouth started running again.  
  
“…so I think– I think, it’s too much information they’d have, which could easily be abused, not _necessarily_ by them, but maybe bought at the right price. Because these days they’re easily corrupted. Not that they weren’t before, but I think more so now. Everyone is. Everyone is cheap.”  
  
Dom let a lazy smile spread across his face, just listening to Matt’s ramblings about governmental deceit and corporate dominance. He preferred to stay quiet, letting the words wash over him and his thoughts slowly piece back together. He pondered for some time on all that had happened during the trip, still surprised by Matt’s uncharacteristic breakdown. He’d never seen Matt panic like that when they were high. It was one of the reasons Matt returned to psychedelics time and again; he hadn’t had any bad experiences with them. Dom wondered if today might change things.  
  
Matt finished up his meditations on the state of the Western world, and turned his focus back to Dom. His eyes went down to his hands for a few moments, which were fidgeting on the fabric of his shorts.  
  
“I lost it a bit, earlier. I mean, more than I have before doing this.”  
  
“Yeah, I noticed.” Dom paused for a beat, studying Matt. “You alright?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah it’s okay now. I thought I was in a decent state of mind for mushrooms, but clearly I wasn’t. Had things inside that wanted to get out. It wasn’t meant to be inflicted upon you.”  
  
Dom tipped his head to one side, scratching idly at his hair.  
  
“I didn’t really know what to do, to be honest,” he said. “I just, kind of did what seemed like it might calm you down. I know it probably seemed a bit… weird, I guess.”  
  
Matt shook his head.  
  
“No, no. You did fine, dealing with me like that. More than fine; it was good, it worked. I needed reassurance, I think. And you gave me that, definitely. Made me feel worth something.”  
  
“You _are_ worth something,” Dom replied.  
  
Matt smirked and looked away, a hand coming up to rub at his face. Dom smiled at his bashfulness; it seemed _some_ things would never change.  
  
* * *  
  
Matt seemed fine the next day, apparently unaffected by the odd intensity of their trip the previous afternoon. Dom was relieved; if he was honest, he’d been worried Matt would be uneasy with him, after the way he’d consoled him during his fit of panic. He didn’t want Matt to enquire too much about his motives, mostly because Dom didn’t know what they were himself.  
  
But the day ended up being entirely uneventful, with more time spent lounging around the house and a few walks down to the beach. They had a simple dinner and watched the sunset from the balcony, Matt dozing in his chair in the fading light. They retired inside when the insects began to get irritating, and Matt put on some soft classical music, the two of them stretching out on the settee.  
  
Matt retrieved his book from the table and began to read, one of his feet coming to rest in Dom’s lap. Dom didn’t feel the need to occupy himself and instead let his eyes and thoughts wander, his hand idly rubbing Matt’s foot. He heard Matt let out a soft hum, but when he glanced over at him the singer appeared impassive.  
  
They stayed that way for the rest of the evening until Matt’s head began to nod and Dom felt his eyelids drooping. Letting out a large yawn, Matt set his book aside and they made their way down the hall to get ready for bed.  
  
*  
  
Dom wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep. Maybe an hour, maybe more. He’d settled down easy enough, but had stirred to drift half-in, half-out of consciousness. He wasn’t hot or uncomfortable; the night was pleasant and bed no different than any other time, but his brain had woken him up, sensing something was amiss.  
  
As he dozed and shifted his limbs, he realised that he couldn’t feel Matt next to him. They didn’t always sleep in an embrace – he wasn’t _that_ dependent on his best friend, of course – though now Dom thought about it, he usually fell asleep that way. But it was odd for them not be in contact _at all_ when in bed, which was clearly what had roused him.  
  
He wondered for a moment if Matt wasn’t there, unable to sleep or not feeling well. But as he stirred again, his mind still woolly, Dom felt the warmth of Matt’s body nearby and the faint noise of his breathing in the room. The thought of rolling over to spoon Matt and maybe find out why he was so far away crawled slowly across his mind, but instinct made him stop. Matt’s breathing didn’t sound quite like it normally did; it was almost silent in parts, broken by intermittent gulps of air or heavy exhalation.  
  
Dom panicked for a moment, thinking that perhaps Matt was having a fit in his sleep, or something equally serious. Especially when he also noticed that the bed had a slight tremble to it, as though Matt’s body was shaking across from him. Dom’s sleep-addled brain feared the worst, and he was about to rip himself from semi-consciousness when a very small whimper from Matt swung him in almost the opposite direction.  
  
The penny dropped, and Dom felt his whole face flush.  
  
 _Surely not._  
  
The tips of his ears burned with realisation, though for a few moments the drummer found his brain arguing with itself over the validity of his assumptions. Perhaps Matt wasn’t _really_ doing what Dom _thought_ he was doing. He wouldn’t possibly dare do that here, _now_ , with him in the room.  
  
Would he?  
  
Matt had made a particular point about how private that sort of thing was. It wasn’t as if he’d change his mind all of a sudden, for no reason. But then again, Matt was prone to vast shifts in interest on a whim, and had always had a fearless streak, especially in regards to anything sexual. Dom suspected he got off on the risk. Besides, he probably thought Dom was dead to the world and would be none the wiser if he was quick about it.  
  
So now Dom was in a predicament. His mind told him to shift about loudly in the bed to make Matt stop in panic, or confront him boldly and make light of the situation, taking the piss out of him. It told him these things, but his body didn’t seem to be paying attention. Instead, he was struck by a perverse curiosity to continue listening in, despite knowing that he shouldn’t.  
  
He also thought he should probably be more disgusted and annoyed by Matt doing this in their bed while he was there. But all he felt was nervous and slightly strange. It was as though _he_ was the one intruding, being voyeuristic in some way, and that he should feel bad about it, not Matt. Granted, that _was_ strictly true – he hadn’t yet let Matt know he was awake, despite a minute or so ticking by since he’d realised what Matt was up to.  
  
But a few moments later, all of Dom’s internal conflicts were rendered moot when another soft noise, which sounded suspiciously like a _groan_ , escaped from Matt, and the bed shuddered.  
  
Dom’s eyes opened wide in the dark and he felt a blush heat his skin again, almost, he could swear, to his toes this time.  
  
He’d been in sexual situations with Matt present before; various wild parties and orgies meant they’d shared lovers and been in the same room while fucking and coming, but it had only been a vague awareness and not something Dom remembered with much clarity. It was not in any way the same as this now, so close and intense, with the vocal expression of Matt’s pleasure and gasping breaths sticking stubbornly in Dom’s mind.  
  
The drummer could hear his heart beating loudly in his ears and was aware of a shiver of heat passing down his spine at what he was witness to. He couldn’t think his way through this – not that he’d been particularly good at that before – but everything here just suddenly seemed to focus on the physical. It was all blood and skin and breath, and Dom felt as though he had been yanked right into Matt’s personal bubble of gratification without even realising it.  
  
He heard Matt struggling to slow his shaking breaths, clearly trying to keep as quiet as he could in the dark, with the mistaken assumption that the drummer was still asleep. He paused for a few more moments, falling silent, no doubt trying to collect his thoughts. Then Dom heard movement under the sheet and chanced a look over to just make out Matt’s arm searching blindly to the bedside table.  
  
Dom had to stop himself from snickering at what Matt was attempting and failing to find. Trust the singer to be so preoccupied with having a secretive wank that he didn’t think to remember where the tissues were. Dom knew they were over his side of the bed, and any plans that he’d had about going back to sleep and pretending he’d never witnessed any of it, went out the window.  
  
Squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds to brace himself, he then slid his arm out from under the sheet to grab the tissue box and press it against Matt’s flailing hand.  
  
“Here.”  
  
Dom winced at how horribly loud his voice seemed. He also hadn’t meant it to sound so loaded with knowledge and nervousness. He felt Matt’s body freeze next to him, and could only imagine the look of absolute horror painted on his features.  
  
There were a few long seconds of silence, enough for Dom to hear the blood rushing behind his ears again, and then Matt spoke.  
  
“ _Shit_.”  
  
Dom could hear the panic in his whispered curse as he took the box of tissues from his grasp.  
  
“Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered again. “Fuck, oh fucking _hell_.”  
  
There was rushed movement as Matt snatched tissues from the box and cleaned himself up, his body turned away from Dom and head bowed in embarrassment. He continued to swear to himself as he tidied up and hurled the tissues at a nearby bin, before curling up in a ball on the very edge of the bed. In the dark, Dom could just make out Matt’s head buried in his hands. He probably also had his eyes squeezed shut and was wishing the mattress would open up and swallow him whole.  
  
Dom waited a few more moments and then reached his arm out tentatively across the mattress to let his fingertips brush against Matt’s back.  
  
Matt flinched and let out a garbled, “Don’t – !”.  
  
Dom’s heart clenched at the distress in Matt’s voice. He let out a sigh, and cast aside his own nervousness to shuffle closer to his bandmate. He let his hand press more fully against Matt’s skin, his head growing fuzzy again at how heated and damp it was in the wake of Matt’s orgasm.  
  
Matt still shrank away from him but Dom let his hand rub Matt’s back up and down in a soothing motion, inching closer still with the rest of his body.  
  
“It’s alright, mate,” Dom murmured.  
  
“ _No_. No, it isn’t alright. I shouldn’t have done that. Not with you here like this. It isn’t right.”  
  
Dom moved to rest his chin on Matt’s hunched shoulder.  
  
“I don’t care, y’know. It’s fine.”  
  
Matt shook his head, trying to move away from the drummer.  
  
“It may be fine to do it on my own, but not here. I shouldn’t have put you through that. You _should_ care, that I didn’t show you consideration.”  
  
Dom’s lips ghosted a smile and he slid his hand around Matt’s waist, much to the singer’s dismay. He struggled and tried to fight Dom off, but was clearly exhausted.  
  
“If I wanted consideration I wouldn’t be friends with _you_ ,” Dom chuckled. “I’m not bothered by what’s socially acceptable – how many times do I have to tell you before it goes into that fat head of yours?”  
  
Matt sulked in silence for a while, fidgeting in Dom’s embrace but failing to escape from it. Dom could still feel the warm glow on Matt’s skin, and noticed the way he faintly smelt of sweat and sex.  
  
He wondered if these things have anything to do with the ball of heat that had gathered low in his belly. He silently cursed Matt for provoking his body into thinking about getting off.  
  
“I still shouldn’t have done it,” Matt said finally, his voice quiet. “I wasn’t thinking, y’know? Well, I _was_ thinking, but only with one thing, actually.” Dom snickered but Matt didn’t. “I’m sorry you had to hear that – be witness to it,” he continued. “I have a knack for fucking things up, I think.”  
  
Dom wrapped his arm further around Matt’s body, holding him close and letting his face come to rest in the crook of his neck.  
  
“You haven’t fucked anything up,” Dom informed him. “I was half asleep and didn’t even realise what was going on until the last minute. And even then, it hasn’t disgusted me or anything.” He shrugged. “I was caught off guard, nothing more.”  
  
“I still feel bad. And I promise it won’t happen again.”  
  
Dom couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. Matt turned his head a little.  
  
“What?”  
  
“P _w_ omise,” Dom grinned.  
  
“Fuck off,” Matt muttered, nudging him with his elbow.  
  
Dom smiled and lifted his head, his nose brushing behind Matt’s ear. Matt tensed and then shifted away a little, making Dom’s smile fade.  
  
But after a moment, Matt’s hand searched out his, and he laced their fingers, squeezing.  
  
“No matter what happens, I don’t want you to ever think differently of me, okay Dom?” Matt said suddenly, his tone peculiar.  
  
Dom furrowed his brow in confusion.  
  
“Well, this was just wanking, y’know. It’s not a big deal,” he said slowly. “But I won’t. Whatever else you’re on about, I promise I won’t.”  
  
This seemed to placate Matt, though he remained silent, not elaborating on his vague statement.  
  
After a few minutes, Dom heard soft snoring coming from the man in his arms and he smiled to himself. He dared to nuzzle the back of Matt’s neck, drawing a hum of appreciation, before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.  
  
*  
  
Dom wasn’t surprised when Matt was uneasy with him the following day.  
  
He could see the embarrassment and worry behind those blue eyes whenever Matt looked at him, and noticed how he would shrink away a little every time Dom made physical contact with him.  
  
He knew it was Matt’s own fear and shame that was making him act this way, rather than anything Dom had done, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting a little. Dom had to steel himself against the fact that this wouldn’t be something Matt would forget quickly.  
  
However, Dom wasn’t quite so prepared when he found Matt packing a suitcase the day after.  
  
It was early afternoon and Dom had just come back from a quick dip in the ocean, thinking it best to leave Matt on his own for a while.  
  
When he entered the bedroom, Matt was removing clothes from the drawers and piling them onto the bed next to the case. Dom watched him for a few moments, a strange jumble of emotions beginning to stir in his belly.  
  
“I didn’t know you were heading off. Did Chris call or something?”  
  
Matt didn’t look up as he spoke.  
  
“What? No, no. There’s some things I need to do, things I need to sort out.”  
  
“Back in Italy? I thought you’d sorted all that.”  
  
Dom let his gaze follow the singer, and he noticed an agitated twitch in Matt’s movements.  
  
“No, not back in Italy. It’s not to do with Gaia.”  
  
“Oh?” Dom queried. He slid onto the empty space left on the bed and sprawled out, eyeing Matt. “What’s it to do with, then? Album stuff?”  
  
“Come on, Dom, do I have to tell you every fucking thing I’m doing? You need to learn to back off sometimes, you know; not everything that goes on with me is your business.”  
  
Dom’s eyebrows went up and when Matt glanced over at him, it was clear he knew he’d gone too far. He didn’t apologise but he did look sheepish, and continued packing silently, shoving clothing into the case in an apparently haphazard manner. Dom watched him in quiet curiosity, unsure what it was he’d done or said to provoke Matt.  
  
“I’m flying out at six from Barbados,” Matt said flatly. “I’m going to head to the airfield soon so I’m not late.”  
  
“You’ve already organised a charter from here?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Right. I didn’t know you’d been to the hangar lately.”  
  
“I called them yesterday.”  
  
“Oh right, okay.”  
  
Dom fell silent for a while, his eyes following Matt’s motions until he finally finished with his case. He helped Matt press it down and zip it up, and then climbed off the bed.  
  
“When will you be back?” Dom asked.  
  
“I’m not sure, I don’t know. I haven’t really planned that bit yet. These things I need to sort, I don’t know how long they’ll take. Might be a while, might not.”  
  
Matt said all of this without looking at him, shifting his case off the bed and collecting together a few more items strewn around the room. Dom furrowed his brow, perplexed, and ran a hand through his hair.  
  
“Matt, is this because of the other day, with the mushrooms? Look, I know things got a bit intense, but you seemed okay afterwards. I thought it was alright, that we worked it out. Is it _not_ alright?”  
  
Matt glanced up at him, his expression guarded. Dom couldn’t tell what was going on behind those eyes, and Matt’s words didn’t particularly clarify anything either.  
  
“I _was_ okay afterwards, and it’s alright.”  
  
Dom followed him as Matt began to wheel his case out of the bedroom and down the hall.  
  
“Well, what then?” Dom prompted.  
  
Matt didn’t reply, and instead set his case near the front door and began wandering the house for anything else he might have forgotten. Dom watched him for a while, his thoughts turning slowly over the events of the past few days.  
  
“Is it the _other_ night then?” Dom asked when Matt came past into the kitchen again.  
  
His voice was soft, but Matt definitely heard him because he froze for a moment. Dom didn’t elaborate; he knew Matt knew what he was referring to.  
  
“No,” Matt replied. “Well, yes, but no.”  
  
It wasn’t much more than a murmur, and Matt refused to meet his eyes, continuing his circuit of the house. Dom let out a sigh and leant against the kitchen counter, one ankle hooked over the other.  
  
“You said you were fine. Well, you said you felt bad but I thought it was okay in the end. What’s happened? Why are you suddenly pissed off with me?”  
  
“Nothing’s happened. I’m not pissed off with you.”  
  
“Well it bloody well seems like it. Why else would you suddenly pack up and leave?”  
  
“I’m not pissed off with you, yeah? It’s not to do with you. Well, I suppose it _is_ , but it’s not really. It’s me more than anything, to do with me and how I am.”  
  
Dom threw him a dubious look.  
  
“It’s not you, it’s me, eh?” he mocked.  
  
Matt turned away at this, eyes downcast, and headed for the door, wheeling his suitcase closer. As he turned the handle and opened it, Dom pushed himself off from the bench and strode to the door, catching Matt by the wrist.  
  
Matt’s eyes darted down to Dom’s hand and then up to meet his eyes. They were clouded with something Dom didn’t recognise. This was becoming a habit.  
  
“Matt, come on,” he said gently. “What’s the matter?”  
  
“I don’t know. Nothing.”  
  
He shrugged and then shook his head.  
  
“And by nothing, you mean something,” Dom pressed.  
  
He shrugged again.  
  
“You want to talk about it?”  
  
“Not really, no.”  
  
“Alright.” Dom watched him carefully for a few moments. “Are you sure about that?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Matt’s tone was sharper this time. Dom let out a small sigh.  
  
“Okay. Well, if you change your mind later, I’m only a phone call away, yeah? I hope you sort out whatever it is you need to sort out.”  
  
“I hope so too.”  
  
Dom searched his face but Matt still refused to be read.  
  
“I’ll see you… well, whenever, I guess. If I don’t hear from you before the end of next week, I’ll text you. Not to harass you. Just to make sure you haven’t topped yourself or anything, yeah?”  
  
The last part made Matt crack a smile, and Dom grinned, squeezing the wrist he still had a hold of.  
  
“Yeah, okay. Speak to you then, or something.”  
  
Dom pulled Matt closer by the wrist and into an embrace, his other hand going up into the back of his hair. He felt Matt tense under the contact so he kept it brief, despite the compulsion to clutch the singer to his chest and not let go.  
  
When he released him, he gave Matt a long stare, his eyes fixed on the blue flames that suddenly seemed so unfamiliar to him. Dom didn’t like the way it felt, and was reminded strongly of the nature of their friendship in recent years. He didn’t want it to go back to that again.  
  
Matt broke the eye contact and reached for his suitcase, finally gathering all his belongings together and heading out the door. He gave Dom a final farewell nod and crossed the threshold, making his way down the front path.  
  
From the doorway, Dom watched him go, the bright afternoon sun lighting up Matt’s shaggy hair into a golden brown halo around his head. The singer didn’t look back, and fished his sunglasses from his pocket to slide them onto his face.  
  
Somehow, Dom knew then that this would be the last time Matt would walk down that path. He wasn’t going to see him on the island again.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom finds his own mind turning on him as he succumbs to the loneliness of the island without Matt.

For a while, Dom pretended Matt would be coming back.  
  
He remained on the island, rising early several mornings to watch the sun peep over the horizon before returning home to prepare breakfast. The first few days he forgot and made too much, so used to serving for two. The extra food sat in the fridge, a reminder every time he opened the door that Matt was now thousands of miles away. The thought made Dom feel unreasonably morose, and he quickly forced himself out of the habit.  
  
He went diving a number of times and, though it still instilled in him a sense of peace, the reality of his loneliness came crashing down on him every time he returned to shore. He didn’t have Matt there to tease about his fear of the depths, nor to share a beer or cup of tea with upon his return to the house.  
  
And the house itself seemed to grow increasingly large and empty. Dom thought he could hear his footsteps echoing in his own head as he walked about the rooms, so he took to playing music from his iPod most of the day, or putting a movie on in the background on the shitty TV. Though the sound of voices or melody filled the uneasy quiet, it occasionally backfired on him when the iPod would pick Muse or Rachmaninov at random. It only served to fill Dom’s head with thoughts of Matt, and how uncomfortably things had been left between them.  
  
*  
  
Inevitably, Dom found himself turning to the bottle, despite the fact that he knew it wouldn’t fix anything and would only result in him feeling physically like shit, in addition to his emotional problems. He held off for a few days but ended up sprawled on the floor in the sun room, fingers wrapped loosely around the neck of a half-empty bottle of gin.  
  
Dom lay prone on his side just under one end of the piano, his eyes tracking over the wood of the frame and fingers tracing slow patterns in the carpet. His thoughts were focused on Matt, of course – they couldn’t _not_ be, in this room, with his beloved piano overhead. The times Matt had played for him drifted through Dom’s mind; all the soaring melodies, all the ridiculous ones, the melancholy ones.  
  
The last made his chest ache, and he clenched a fist and shut his eyes to will the pain away. After a moment it passed, and Dom went back to his earlier thoughts about Matt’s behaviour before he left. At first, he wondered if it was simple shame from the wanking incident that made the singer bolt. But Matt had seemed okay about it at the time, considering, and there was no logical reason why he should be upset at Dom for it. Certainly not enough to want to pack up and leave altogether.  
  
The only thing Dom could put it down to, was the events that unfolded when they were high together. Matt had said he was alright about what Dom had done to calm him, but the drummer now thought that maybe he wasn’t. Or had decided he wasn’t, once he’d had a few days to think about it. The reasons why still eluded him though.  
  
Matt had already done the same, if not worse, the night he’d drank himself into a stupor and turned up at Dom’s chalet a few months back. He couldn’t quite believe Matt would think a kiss excusable when drunk but not when high, despite having relatively more control of one’s actions when on mushrooms. He didn’t think Matt would be judgemental like that. Besides, as Matt had mentioned on that late night visit, they _had_ snogged each other before and it wasn’t a big deal.  
  
Perhaps it was the drink, or maybe his blue mood, but Dom allowed himself to be drawn into that memory this time, his thoughts drifting to many years earlier. He closed his eyes and let the scenes play out in his mind’s eye.  
  
  
 _The tour was going well, Dom thought. The debut album had been pretty well received in the press, though it was always easier to gauge their success through the intensity of the live shows. The fans seemed into it, and that was the main thing, and the **only** thing that mattered to Matt it seemed. He was going through a media-hating phase. Not that Dom blamed him, and besides, it was much more fun and less of a head-fuck to focus on the fans.  
  
Though Dom had to admit he was going through a slight head-fuck, or at least a reassessment of himself, because of them. He’d been getting used to the enthusiasm and availability of women now that he was in a rock band, but the flip-side of it had taken him by surprise. It shouldn’t have; this was now the twenty-first century, and interest by men as well was almost inevitable.  
  
Dom just wasn’t sure how to handle it. He was flattered, a little embarrassed, and also unsure. He’d then slowly come to realise he was curious – he wanted to know if he was into that sort of thing – but wasn’t quite game enough to test it out. At least, not with some random fan that would go blabbing to his bandmates and crew. Dom still held onto a little of that teenage insecurity, and couldn’t shake the worry of being judged by the people he knew.  
  
Matt was a different matter though. He wasn’t just people – he was Dom’s best friend. And Dom found he wasn’t worried when it came to Matt, so had decided he was the best place to start.  
  
They’d garnered some time alone in the crappy little hotel; they were sharing a room anyway, but more often than not were being hauled from place to place for press, or by Tom and the other crew out for a drink somewhere. Today though they had some rare free time, with Tom off organising tech stuff with the crew and Chris sightseeing with Kelly.  
  
Matt was lounging on the solitary chair, picking and strumming at his unplugged electric guitar, while Dom lay belly-down on the bed, flicking through TV channels. It was all in German, so he quickly became bored of it, and instead turned his attention to Matt.  
  
“Do you think touring has changed you?”  
  
Matt looked up, pausing his strumming.  
  
“Yes, definitely. It’s given me lots of new experiences, and let me leave my old life behind. Which, in a way, means I’ve left my old self behind. So yeah, definitely changed.” His gaze became inquisitive. “Why?”  
  
Matt could always read him; he knew he wouldn’t be asking a question like that for no reason.  
  
“I think I have too.”  
  
“You see that as a bad thing?”  
  
Dom shook his head.  
  
“No, I like this new life. Everything we get to see and do is great. I’m just… I dunno…”  
  
Matt eyed him.  
  
“What? What’s the matter?”  
  
Dom threw him a lazy smile, shaking his head.  
  
“Nothing’s the matter, really. I’ve been thinking about things differently, that’s all.”  
  
“What things?”  
  
Matt could be a right nosey bastard when his interest was piqued, and wouldn’t let up until Dom told him everything. Although, that was kind of the point in starting this conversation.  
  
“People. Me. And sex.”  
  
Matt’s eyebrow went up at this and an impish smile appeared on his lips.  
  
“Yeah? What have you been up to lately, then? Something filthy I should know about?” he asked.  
  
“Nothing you didn’t know already,” Dom replied, grinning. “I haven’t done anything; I’m more wondering whether I **should** , whether I want to.”  
  
“What did you want to do – **maybe** want to do?”  
  
“Nothing specific.” Dom took a breath. “I was wondering about blokes.”  
  
“Oh right, yeah.”  
  
Matt didn’t bat an eyelid, and Dom felt the knot of nervousness in his stomach loosen.  
  
“Have you thought about it?” Dom inquired.  
  
Matt shrugged.  
  
“Not really. Hasn’t really interested me. It might later, I don’t know.”  
  
“Oh, okay.”  
  
Matt watched him for a moment.  
  
“You’re thinking you might be gay?” Matt asked.  
  
Dom shook his head.  
  
“Nah, I don’t think so. Well, that’s kind of the point though – I don’t know, so I was just wondering if I should test it out.”  
  
“Yeah, right, yeah. Gonna give it a go with a fan or something?”  
  
“No, I didn’t really want it getting around. Especially if it turns out shit.” He paused, and took a breath. “I thought you might be up for it though.”  
  
Matt’s expression turned wary now.  
  
“You want me to **fuck** you?” he asked.  
  
Dom snorted with laughter.  
  
“No, you twat.” He sat up on the bed, swinging his legs to hang them over the side of the mattress. “I was thinking a snog, to see if it does anything. If not, then I’ll know.”  
  
“And if it does?”  
  
“Don’t worry, your arse is safe,” Dom reassured him, his grin wide. “It would be a bit weird if I asked you for a shag as well. I’ll be able to find a willing fan, I’m sure.” His expression turned playful. “Besides, you’re not my type.”  
  
Matt appeared affronted, his brow turning into a frown.  
  
“Why? What’s wrong with me?” he demanded to know.  
  
Dom laughed again, throwing Matt a baffled look.  
  
“So, you **want** me to want to fuck you now?” he asked, teasing.  
  
Matt waved a dismissive hand.  
  
“No, no, of course not. I was just wondering why you’d think I’m not your type.”  
  
“It was a joke, mate. I haven’t really thought about it.”  
  
“Yeah, okay, fine, fine. So, what? You want to snog, then? See if it’s, er, interesting, or… **arousing**?”  
  
Matt waggled his eyebrows, giggling, and Dom grinned back.  
  
“That’s the idea, yeah. And I suppose you could know then too, about yourself.”  
  
Matt set his guitar aside, clambering up from the chair.  
  
“That’s a point. I guess it’s good to know these things. Probably better with someone I trust too.”  
  
The singer’s smile was genuine, and Dom felt some more of his nervousness dissipate.  
  
Matt came to sit down beside him on the bed, his hands settling into his lap to fidget there. There was an awkward silence for a few moments, Matt clearing his throat as Dom collected his thoughts. He figured he should make this as simple as possible to avoid more uneasiness.  
  
Matt wasn’t facing him exactly, but Dom leaned over anyway and tilted his head to press their lips together. The singer’s eyes closed at the contact. Dom shifted his mouth to get a better position, their noses bumping, and his eyelids fluttered shut too.  
  
He started to coax Matt’s lips apart, which seemed a little reluctant. Matt’s mouth opened and a hand came up to his shoulder, and for a moment, the drummer thought it was to stop him. But then he felt a tongue gingerly snaking its way into his mouth, and Matt inhaled sharply through his nose as it met his own.  
  
It was at this point the sensation of it all began to filter through into Dom’s brain.  
  
It was **odd** , more than anything.  
  
Matt’s lips were different – thin, and hardly noticeable really if Dom hadn’t specifically been thinking about them. His tongue was different too – demanding, challenging – certainly not letting Dom dictate the terms of this exchange. No surprises there, though; Matt had always been strong-willed. Or bloody-minded, anyway.  
  
But more than these, it must have been the angular shape of Matt’s features that felt strange, made everything seem slightly **off**. Not necessarily in a bad way; it was just **new** , which Dom supposed was the point. He also supposed he should be working out whether he actually liked it or not.  
  
He wasn’t sure yet.  
  
One thing he **was** sure about, which he told himself he would **never** let Matt know, was that the singer was certainly a good kisser. The way he moved his tongue, applied pressure, and adjusted position demonstrated his expertise. It made Dom think that the bragging he occasionally did about how good he was at snogging was not entirely unjustified.  
  
Wanker.  
  
And Dom thought he might be talked around on the whole kissing blokes thing when Matt’s tongue traced a swift path along the inside of his bottom lip, sending a shiver of heat slithering up Dom’s spine. Taking Matt’s audacity for egotism, Dom returned the gesture in kind, indignant. He noted the way Matt’s fingers suddenly tightened in the fabric at his shoulder, and another sharp breath was exhaled from his nose.  
  
Matt pulled away for a moment, and all Dom could see was the clouded gaze of the singer’s eyes before him. He was frowning.  
  
Then Matt was upon him again, sealing them in another kiss. There seemed a strange determination to his movements, like he was confused about something and suspected the answer lay somewhere in Dom’s mouth.  
  
Maybe it did, though Dom didn’t know what the question was.  
  
After a few more moments, they broke apart due to a necessary intake of breath, and Matt gave a small shake of his head, eyelids fluttering.  
  
“Ah, shit.”  
  
He made a strange huffing noise and then started giggling, producing a smile on Dom’s lips. Matt scrubbed at one eye with the heel of his hand, letting go of Dom’s shirt. The drummer sat back, taking it all in.  
  
“Alright?” Dom asked.  
  
He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Matt’s behaviour; there **were** occasions when he had no idea what his bandmate was thinking.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, fine. I think I was expecting something else, something not quite like that.”  
  
Dom raised an eyebrow, settling back to lean with one hand behind him.  
  
“What **were** you expecting? It was a kiss, wasn’t it?”  
  
Matt shrugged, fingers coming up to scratch in his mop of hair.  
  
“It was, it was, I know. I think I thought it was going to feel different than it did, **be** different in some way. I guess I imagined it more, more… unpleasantly…?” He let out another giggle, his brow quirking. “Know what I mean, though?”  
  
Dom smile became a wry grin and he gave a soft snort.  
  
“Oh yeah, thanks,” he said.  
  
When Matt began to protest, Dom put a hand up to stop him.  
  
“Yeah, alright. I suppose it’s understandable, since you probably wouldn’t have put much thought into it before now – you prepared yourself for the worst.”  
  
“Well, yes, yeah exactly. And it wasn’t, so that’s what I meant when I said I thought it would be different. It wasn’t horrible. It was alright, yeah?”  
  
Matt’s smile was lop-sided. Dom thought it summed up the singer’s reaction perfectly._  
  
  
Dom rubbed at his face as he felt a slight dampness on his cheeks, and then frowned at the unravelling of his composure.  
  
Thinking back on times like that shouldn’t upset him, but after the drink and wallowing in self-pity, it was inevitable. Recalling the good times with Matt only served to remind him how he didn’t have those now, and how in times past, the two of them dealt easily with difficult social situations.  
  
Familiarity and intimacy were part and parcel of their close friendship then, not a source of strain or uneasiness. Dom couldn’t say specifically what had changed, though he supposed it was simply their growth as people and adults. He wished now that things were back how they used to be, when they were both curious about the limits of social boundaries and unconcerned about testing them.  
  
Dom let out a sigh and laid the back of his hand over his eyes.  
  
He tried to focus his mind elsewhere but the memories continued to linger – broken, fuzzy images of a scrawny singer with dark hair pressing his lips upon Dom’s, a tongue invading his mouth. The sensation of it – and how his mouth tasted – snagged in Dom’s thoughts, and mingled with those from only a few months ago.  
  
The haze from the drink muddied his recollection, turning the two events into one, and Dom was struck by new, imagined moments. They were of Matt from now, kissing him upon the deck of his old villa, his hand fisted in the shoulder of Dom’s shirt. Matt’s tongue ran along the inside of his bottom lip, before parting their mouths to exhale a curse. Dom could see Matt’s penetrating gaze, his eyes dark with want, and thin lips wet in the moonlight. Instead of pushing him away, Dom’s hand slipped behind the singer’s neck to pull him in again, kissing him harder.  
  
Dom rubbed at his eyes with his fingertips, shaking his head to pull himself from the reverie.  
  
None of that had ever happened, and he didn’t know why his thoughts insisted on running away like that. All it had done was provoke his body into arousal, a state that was currently quite useless given the condition he was in. His hand lingered down to rub clumsily between his legs, but he’d had too much to drink to be anything more than half-hard.  
  
Dom sighed and scrubbed at his eyes again. He needed to stop this. Now.  
  
He needed to do something constructive with his time. It was no use staying here like this, giving in to his frustrations and despair. It wasn’t likely to accomplish anything; it certainly hadn’t before. It was much more likely to swallow him whole, given that he didn’t have any of his friends around to pick him back up. He’d wind up alone and bitter, kicking himself for not patching things up with his best friend.  
  
Much like Matt, he’d never been one to live with regrets, and he wasn’t about to start now. Things between them weren’t going to magically fix themselves, and if Matt was going to be childish and refuse to sort it out, then Dom would bloody well have to.  
  
Dom pushed away the nearby bottle of gin and forced himself to sit up, albeit with much effort. His head was still fuzzy and body unsteady with drink, but a couple of thoughts resolved themselves surprisingly clearly in his mind.  
  
The relationship between he and Matt was worth salvaging – it was ridiculous to throw away twenty years of friendship over a silly misunderstanding and Matt simply being in a mood. The singer needed some time to sort himself out, and that was fine, but it didn’t mean _everything_ should be broken because of it. They’d weathered plenty over the years; they’d weather this too.  
  
The other thought Dom had was that he needed to leave. Being on the island had been good for him, there was no doubt about that, but it also proved to be a double-edged sword. The isolation had been useful for clearing his head and sorting out his emotions about Jess; all the everyday rubbish that cluttered his thinking disappeared. But that same isolation turned easily into loneliness without Matt there, and Dom had felt himself slipping out of touch with the wider world. It wouldn’t be long before he really started losing his grip on reality and returned home even more broken than when he’d left.  
  
And so, in his inebriated state, Dom made the decision – he was damn well going to return to England and sort out this mess they’d gotten themselves into.  
  
Whether Matt liked it or not.


End file.
